<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Howling by purpleplaidshirt</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23693683">Howling</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/purpleplaidshirt/pseuds/purpleplaidshirt'>purpleplaidshirt</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Voyeurism, Alley Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Bisexual Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Bisexual Jaskier | Dandelion, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Time, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gay Sex, Geralt's Canonically Huge Cock, Getting Together, Horny Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier | Dandelion &amp; Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg Friendship, M/M, Miscommunication, Multi, Not Actually Unrequited Love, OT3, Oral Sex, Pining, Pining Jaskier | Dandelion, Polyamory, Possibly Unrequited Love, Public Blow Jobs, Rough Sex, Slow Burn, Threesome - F/M/M, Unrequited Love, Unrequited Lust, Vaginal Sex, established yen / geralt, historically innacurate medieval threesome, soft Geralt sometimes when no one is looking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:53:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>28,948</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23693683</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/purpleplaidshirt/pseuds/purpleplaidshirt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Geralt put his hand on her arm and gave it light a squeeze.</p><p>“I know.” She understood. “I’m always saving him and we’re always saving you.”</p><p>Before he could he reply, she was gone from the tent.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion &amp; Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion/Other(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. What the hell would I be without you?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So I watched the series twice, started reading the books and here we are.<br/>This OT3 is something fierce for me.<br/>Also first long fic (anxiety peaking).</p><p>Hope you like it as much as I'm enjoying writing it. :)</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Geralt put a hand on hers and gave it squeeze.</p><p>“I know.” She understood. “I’m always saving him and we’re always saving you.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt was in a mood. Jaskier had been gone for almost a week – which wasn’t uncommon, but a little longer than usual. The witcher wanted to hit the road but wouldn’t leave before the bard was back.</p><p>Yennefer didn’t want to deal with his cranky ass a minute more and pushed him to leave one too many times. Jaskier would find them eventually – he always did.</p><p>“I am not going.”</p><p>“Suit yourself. But don’t stay there grunting and doing nothing. Move your fucking ass and go after him. It’s not like you can’t smell his trail.”</p><p>---</p><p>Geralt and Jaskier fell into a routine pretty easily. They would camp out in a forest or stay a few nights at an inn, if the price and the people allowed, then they parted to a new place – new contracts, new hunt, new sites. Wherever there were stories to make and to write verses about. Sometimes Jaskier tagged along, other times he would just enjoy the local pubs, play his songs, and guarantee they had enough coins and fame to be on the move again. That is, when Yennefer wasn’t with them producing fancy tents, beds and whatnot with her magical hands. She would spend a couple of months with them but then left to go on about her business at Aretuza. It was inevitable, Geralt and Yennefer would always cross paths at some point and a night of passionate reunion left him awake wondering.</p><p>This was different, though. The last hunt hadn’t gone well. Geralt wasn’t supposed to kill the bruxa, the mayor ordered him to bring her to town so she could be punished publicly. She was vile – large mouth, ridiculously pointy teeth and agile as fire burning a haystack. The witcher had run out of options and, to honor his protocol, he used his silver sword across the bruxa’s chest. Her bat sound screams still echoed in his head vividly.</p><p>When Geralt came back with a poisoned cut on his right shoulder deep enough to see muscle, half delirious and feverish, they knew they had to stay a few more days. The town was enraged, though, no one wanted to accept a rebellious witcher. With few words, Yennefer had built a tent the size of a cottage with supplies to treat his wound. He finally woke up cleared-headed, but in no condition to ride a horse nor sign a new contract. It was torture to watch and do nothing. Watch and bicker with a certain sharp-tongued sorcerer. So Jaskier decided to read the anguish in his chest as boredom from staring at a leaking wound and got on his feet. Yennefer kept coming and going through portals and doing very little of her so-called magic to treat him quickly. Day and night nursing a feverish, grunting Geralt.</p><p>“It’s magic, not miracle. It takes time.” she had stated after day two. “It’s harder if you’re not human.”</p><p>The thing is, Jaskier didn’t want to allow powerlessness to consume him, so he fought her back with snarky comments and sarcasm. Yennefer and Jaskier had rarely spent more than a couple of hours alone without Geralt’s interference, so their exchange went from sarcastic to nasty in a heartbeat. He would annoy her with questions, she would answer once and threaten him next with magic, violence, and her intense violet eyes. Jaskier’s manhood had never heard so much menace before.</p><p>---</p><p>“I’m going to a pub.” Jaskier announced straightening his turquoise cetin blouse.</p><p>“Why?” Geralt wondered trying not to lean on his wounded shoulder.</p><p>“Because I can’t damn well stay here uninspired and expect to go to the next town with an interesting song to play.” his answer was snappy. Geralt locked his jaw waiting for him to elaborate. He didn’t.</p><p>“We’re leaving soon.”</p><p>“I know. And I will be back. Maybe a little more inspired for seeing <em>life</em> out there, definitely drunk.”</p><p>Geralt wanted to make some hurtful remarks about how he wasn’t holding Jaskier hostage, about how he was free to leave, about how he was never even asked to join. He held his tongue. It was hurtful to remember what had happened last time Geralt didn’t hold back. Besides, that was the pain talking. Pain from the wound, of course.</p><p>“If you’re not back in a couple of days, I will leave without you.”</p><p>“You wouldn’t.” Jaskier snorted, but not so self-assured as he wished to sound.</p><p>But Geralt didn’t leave.</p><p>---</p><p>It didn’t take long for Jaskier to find the main road towards the village. Jaskier might not stand out as Geralt in a crowd, but the few people who did recognize him scoffed in his direction. It seemed word had spread fast. What did they think they would achieve with a wild, live bruxa, though?</p><p>Dusk was painting the sky in a deep purple, almost blue, color. There was a cold breeze ruffling the bard’s hair, but it was not too chilly. Jaskier breathed in, but the uneasiness in his stomach was heavy still. He did feel guilty for leaving the camp and he not once believed that Geralt and Yennefer would not leave his ass behind if he were not back.</p><p>It had always been Geralt and Jaskier for quite some time. They had a silent agreement. When Geralt went monster hunting alone, he came back and shared whatever I less details than the bard wanted while he ate whatever Jaskier made or smoked. A little bit like a housewife, as Yennefer promptly pointed out the first week after she had joined them the first time. But Jaskier had his fair share of alone time doing his things too. Travelling on his own before allowed him to learn about people’s behavior, costumes, herbs, and other useful things that helped him and Geralt along the way. So, it was only natural that a little bit of jealousy would bite him right in the ass when two became three. Although that was something he just had to get used to, since Geralt was literally bound to the mage.</p><p>Getting used to Geralt wasn’t that easy of a task – sometimes, it demanded too much patience, he was infuriating. There was no interrupting when Geralt was putting his potions together or meditating. It required too much energy to make the witcher believe in anything other than his own beliefs. You would <em>think </em>that he was listening to your well thought out argument, only to have him “hmm” and turn his back to do whatever he thought was right. And there was definitely no stopping him when he was in action – either slaying a monster’s head with his silver blade or bedding someone. The last one bothered Jaskier a bit more, as he wasn’t spared of midnight moans, and sometimes early mornings, middays. Getting some fresh air would do the bard some good. He could go to a tavern, play a little and get distracted, perhaps lock eyes with a lovely someone that would help him relieve some stamina.</p><p>The tavern had barely ten people in, but it was still early. He could try to eat, have a few drinks, and then offer to pay with entertainment. The stage was narrow, but Jaskier never needed that – always a poet of the people, he liked to walk around the room and collect his dues while playing.</p><p>“What can I get you?” a voice from behind the counter startled him. She was a bit taller than most women around, had light blonde hair and honey-colored eyes. Her smile was hard, certainly a perk acquired from working at a tavern and dealing with assholes all night every day.</p><p>“Whatever you have to offer a troubadour that will entertain your guests from dusk to dawn.” his smile was easy, showed almost all his teeth and shined like his light blue eyes. Jaskier was sure he saw her features soften a bit between her creased brows.</p><p>“Well, troubadour, I can only offer you soup and ale before your act.” she replied without looking directly at him, her hands busy organizing mugs and bottles. “We’ll see later what I’ll have to offer if your act is to my liking.”</p><p>Yes, yes, her voice was much sweeter now, for sure. She finished her sentence with a crooked smile before turning on her heels and disappearing behind the goat-leathered curtain that probably led to the kitchen. That gave Jaskier something to hold on to. That way he could at least smell someone other than Geralt and Yennefer, something other than sex and musk and lilacs that kept him awake some nights, unsatisfied and bothered.</p><p>Jaskier took his time appreciating the food and drink while a performer played on the stage a melancholic song about a long-lost lover. The guests, he noticed, now in larger number, were barely paying any attention.</p><p>“Why don’t you get up there next? She’s been putting everyone to sleep or cry every night for a week now.” it was the blonde from behind the counter.</p><p>“I can sure do that.” Jaskier replied looking up from his chair. “I never got your name…”</p><p>“Jade.” A reply with a smile. “Now, go.” She insisted and went away quickly.</p><p>And so Jaskier did. He played all night, forgetting a wounded witcher and the lilacs for a few minutes, ironically playing songs that only existed because of them. The strings in his lute flew under his fingers almost like wind blowing a flower’s petals. His voice carried passionate tones and Jaskier almost felt like the old days, when he sang his heart out without a heartache to nurse.</p><p>Flushed cheeks and damp forehead, the cheeky bard finished his last song getting drunk applauses and praises from strangers. Even a few butt pinches. He walked to the bar again, rested his lute on the counter and looked around for the pretty blonde that welcomed him in the beginning of the night, but she was nowhere to be seen. Adrenaline still pumping in his veins from the show, Jaskier was feeling impulsive and risky, so he jumped the counter, not without knocking down a few mugs and swearing a little. He pushed the leathered curtain aside and stepped into a small, dim lighted kitchen. The backdoor was open, and he could hear voices whispering but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Jaskier looked around and spotted a bottle of apple wine that he thought to bring back with him and give it to Geralt – he knew Yennefer had made him like the thing.</p><p>“Well, hello there.” that was not the blonde’s voice but a much deeper, intimidating one.</p><p>“Why, hello kind sir. How may I help you?” Jaskier’s voice too high to pretend he wasn’t scared. “I’m not from around here but I’m sure I could help somehow—”</p><p>Jaskier shut up as the much taller, broader, mean looking man stepped closer and clasped a hand down his left shoulder.</p><p>“I don’t know if you’re the owner, but I was led to believe I could find a very lovely lady who served me some soup and ale earlier. I mean, if she’s your wife or sister… cousin? If she’s related to you in any way, I assure you I was only looking for her to see if I could buy this good bottle of apple wine.” he never really learned when to shut up, especially when he really should. The man kept pushing Jaskier, making him walk backwards out the open kitchen door. Outside, behind the tavern, the alley was dark and narrow. “My friend, well, companion, as some may say, he’s hurt. He was hurt by a bruxa, can you believe it? But it’s all good now. The bruxa is dead, we should be on our way out of here very, very soon. I have coins, I earned a few. You want them? Sir? Could we just stop walking, I’m not really good at walking backwards, you can probably see how much I’m trip…”</p><p>“You see, boy, I wasn’t totally sure that you were the bard that accompanied that white-haired, good for nothing butcher” Jaskier didn’t really appreciate the way he said <em>bard</em>, almost spitting the word, and then <em>good for nothing butcher</em>? The guy didn’t have the friendlier of faces, but, come on, he did kill the bruxa. But the poet wasn’t about to contradict him. “I actually thought he had left as soon as he had killed that anomaly. That monster did some damage to this town and this town’s families, we were really looking forward to public justice. But your friend is really greedy, is he not? No, no. That wasn’t a question for you to answer. Now that I know you’re still around, I would like to see him suffer a penalty for not being true to his contract. No, I talk now. You keep your mouth shut.</p><p>“This is how it’s going to work: we will go somewhere and wait for your witcher to find you. By then, if he comes, I’ll have gathered some people that would love a chat with him. Isn’t that fair?”</p><p>Jaskier didn’t have time to answer before everything went dark.</p><p>---</p><p>“You are not ready yet, Geralt.” Yennefer protested seeing a little bit of blood still wetting the cloth on his shoulder.</p><p>The sorcerer had just come back through a chilly portal as if she had felt Geralt getting ready to leave.</p><p>“You were the one telling me to go after him.”</p><p>“Yeah, well. I didn’t think you were stupid enough to try.”</p><p>“Yen, it’s been too long. Even you know that.” Geralt was sitting now, but still a little paler than usual. “I know you don’t like him much--” she scoffed at that. “But he’s human. He could be in danger.”</p><p>“Sure, convince yourself he needs you more than you need his validation.” She mumbled getting closer to him to change his bandage. “My magic on you takes longer to work. The wound hasn’t healed properly yet.”</p><p>“There’s no more poison. I can go with Roach.”</p><p>“And if you have to carry him back here, you’ll just bleed all over him and faint, right?”</p><p>Geralt’s eyes widened like a feline’s.</p><p>“I’ll go.”</p><p>“No.” it was a grunt.</p><p>“Shut up.” She snapped back. “I’ll go look for him in town. That’s where he said he would go, so it won’t be so difficult to find a bard who won’t stop talking. Besides, I can come back quickly through a portal if I have to.”</p><p>Geralt put a hand on hers and gave it squeeze.</p><p>“I know.” She understood. “I’m always saving him and we’re always saving you.”</p><p>Before he could he reply, she was gone from the tent.</p><p>---</p><p>Yennefer’s portal opened in the middle of the town scaring the few passersby in the process. She thought of asking them about the bard, but most looked drunk. The mage breathed in deeply, concentrating to smell familiar scents, hear familiar voices or heartbeats. There was no sign of Jaskier, and she felt her skin a little bit colder. Yen looked around for a place to start looking but none of them looked promising. Something inside her said Jaskier was not playing the damn lute, singing happily and getting drunk, but Yennefer didn’t want to hear. She tried walking into bars from left and right, asking if anyone’s seen a cheeky bard with stories of a witcher to tell. The replies varied from useless lies with wrong descriptions to drunk invites to their beds. No one dared to touch her, though. Even trying to be polite, Yennefer always looked like she was ready to snap someone in two with her eyes alone.</p><p>She was almost losing track of the pubs she had visited; her voice had the politeness it started with, by what felt was the twentieth bar, she was practically demanding information or else. Two more places and she would go back, her stomach twisting in knots. Then, she heard someone</p><p>“Psst!” it came from the alley. Yennefer turned her head in the voice’s direction and saw a woman calling her. “Hey, you’re looking for a lost bard, are you not?”</p><p>“Yes, I am.” Yennefer replied, skeptical. “Why are you whispering?”</p><p>“Well, if I am it is because I can’t yell now, can I? Would you please come over here? I do believe I know where he is.”</p><p>Yennefer looked around for curious eyes observing her but didn’t see anyone threatening. She could hear the woman’s heartbeat increasing as she got closer. This didn’t feel like good news.</p><p>“I’m Jade. Listen, I may have met the bard you asked around, but I can’t stay out here long and get in details. I’m a barmaid here and some of the men who come here often weren’t too discreet about their plans.” The woman talked fast. “Is this his lute?”</p><p>And there it was, proof that Jaskier had indeed been at that place.</p><p>“Where is he?”</p><p>“I don’t know exactly—”</p><p>“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Yennefer rolled her eyes impatiently. She wanted answers, fast.</p><p>“Let me finish. I think they locked him up in a cell of sorts. My bet is the temple they built a few years ago. It was supposed to be a place to worship the gods, but… It never really worked that way.” Jade trailed off and looked back at the half-open door. “Here, take his lute. And… tell him it was a shame we didn’t meet again.”</p><p>Jade blushed a little at that. Of course she had been charmed by him. Who wouldn’t fall for such a voice and such a face, flirty winks and smiles? Yennefer sighed and left in search of said temple.</p><p>---</p><p>“You know what’s funny, bard?” He was ugly. Not just a normal ugly. His face was contorted, so even if he had any flattering features, he made it look ugly. Uglier. “You’d think your witcher would at least look for you after a day or two. If it were not for your songs, not many people would know of him or hire him.” The ugly face laughed a belly laugh.</p><p>Jaskier was tired, hungry, and thirsty. And because he could not keep his mouth shut, he was hurt. There were fresh scars on his torso, a few bleeding scratches on his back and on his arms, and a damned busted lip. They had taken his shoes and ripped his favorite shirt. There was very little that could still affect him at that point.</p><p>“Oh, shut up!” Jaskier begged. “What do you think will happen when he shows up? You’ll point out how upset you are because he didn’t let you kill a monster with your own human hands and just <em>accept</em> a punishment? You fool!” his voice was getting higher with every syllable, almost hysteric. “Did you not hear he needs to honor an oath? It’s a thing, you know? The man does not believe in much, but he’s loyal to his fucking oath. He didn’t even accept the payment. I don’t know why you’re so mad about this.”</p><p>“You bloody twit.” The man muttered on the other side of the cell. “The mayor was supposed to earn the people’s trust with that. It’s not as simples as you paint.”</p><p>“And he did! He hired a freaking witcher!” Jaskier was also <em>oh so tired of screaming</em>. He let his body fall on the dirty ground. “It’s all about ego. That mayor must have the tiniest dick in the whole continent, I swear to the gods.”</p><p>Resting his head back on the rock wall, Jaskier closed his eyes and tried not to let the sting of being left behind for so long break his heart. It was enough to watch someone else being picked over him time and again. Jaskier really did think Geralt would come for him. But what if he didn’t? There was no way out of the cell, he was not once unguarded and, honestly, he didn’t have the strength to try to run either.</p><p>
  <em>Jaskier, can you hear me?</em>
</p><p>Jaskier’s eyes popped open. He heard that familiar voice but there was no sign of its owner or the smell of lilacs either. The only other option was that hunger was making him hallucinate a great story of rescue. But with Yennefer?</p><p>
  <em>Jaskier, are you there? Are you in this temple?</em>
</p><p>What the actual…</p><p>“What’s going on there? Why do you have that face?” the ugly man ordered. Jaskier didn’t really make an effort to learn their names.</p><p>“Wh-what? What face?”</p><p>
  <em>Jaskier, just a simple answer. I can smell you but could damn well be your corpse and I’d hate to wake you up from eternal sleep.</em>
</p><p>“Oh!” he laughed manically. “Oh, you’re fucked! Yes! I am here! I am alive! Hungry too. Oh gods, please, I’m here!”</p><p>“What are you talking about? Who are you talking to, you freak?” The man was now up, slightly scared and looking around for someone he could not see.</p><p>
  <em>How many are there with you?</em>
</p><p>“Uhh, just one, I think. I don’t know if there are others on the way. I mean, I don’t know the way to… here. I was kind of dragged unconscious and against my will to this place.”</p><p>
  <em>Shut up. How many?</em>
</p><p>“Yes, sorry. Just the one… the ugly one. How are you…?”</p><p>“Hey! You stop that right now! I know you’re faking this. I know you’re trying to scare me. But guess what? You won’t!”</p><p>“Oh, my friend, I am not faking a thing. You just let Yennefer of Vengerberg arrive to see I’m answering to a very real… person. And there she is! Right on cue!”</p><p> Yennefer appeared with a very mad face, lute in hand and ready to attack.</p><p>“Who are you? I have a sword and I am not afraid to use it against a lady when needed.”</p><p>With a snap of her fingers, the man’s hand twisted in a very unnatural way, making him let go of his weapon and fall to the ground screaming in pain.</p><p>“Oh, you bitch! Where the fuck did you come from? Look what you did to my hand! Fix this!”</p><p>Yennefer didn’t think twice, she grabbed the lute and swung it directly on his face. Everything happened at once; the man fell back unconscious and bleeding, Jaskier gasped out a scream and two other men appeared from the dark hall behind her.</p><p>“Yennefer!” Jaskier pointed behind her.</p><p>The taller one grabbed both of her arms, forcing them behind her back while the other tried to grab her legs. Yennefer kicked the one on the ground right in his teeth and a silver and purple lightening hit the man behind her, bringing him to his knees. Jaskier could do very little from his locked cell, but he was so relieved to see her that it seemed his heart wanted to fly out of his chest. On second thought, if she was the one coming to rescue him maybe Geralt was in danger. She would never come to her own volition, would she?</p><p>“Jaskier, do you know where the keys are?” she asked trying to kick the ugly’s face. Even with his face bleeding, he didn’t seem to give up and tried to go for her right ankle again. “You tell that pompous mayor he should go alone pick up monsters to fake a scene instead of a witcher.”</p><p>“I will not—”</p><p>“You want to sleep now.”</p><p>It was barely a whisper before she spoke some magic words, but the man fell back as if he had been killed.</p><p>“I think the keys were in his pocket.”</p><p>“Ugh.” She grunted for having to kneel beside the unconscious guy and search in his pockets.</p><p>“How did you know I was here? <em>I</em> don’t even know where I am. And how did you talk to me?”</p><p>Jaskier was no longer feeling so tired but rather excited from all the action he witnessed and for the idea of finally leaving that damned damp of a cell.</p><p>“I got inside your head.” Yennefer replied simply.</p><p>“What do you mean <em>inside</em> my head?” his surprised eyes almost made her laugh while she got up with, finally, the keys. “You were in my head? Like you can talk to me in my head? And I could just reply you with my thoughts?”</p><p>“Not with your thoughts. I can get in, but I can’t read thoughts.”</p><p>“I don’t like this.” He stated. Yennefer stared before unlocking the cell.</p><p>“Well, you liked being saved, didn’t you?”</p><p>“But you can hear my thoughts?”</p><p>“I can… sense them.” Yen said averting her eyes.</p><p>“Don’t joke with me right now. You broke my lute!”</p><p>“We’ll find you another one.” Her eyes rolled. “Do you want to leave or not?”</p><p>“Yes, please, let’s leave.” Jaskier didn’t even think twice before entwining his arm with hers. “But, really, inside my head? You can really <em>sense</em> my thoughts any time you want?”</p><p>“I don’t need to get into your head to know anything about you, bard. It’s always written in your face.” She cleared up, that was fair. “Besides, if I wanted to know something, I’d just torture you until you told me what I wanted to hear.”</p><p>Well, that was scary, but Jaskier didn’t feel afraid. He was almost grateful it was Yennefer the one who showed up instead of Geralt, who would probably yell at him for leaving those nights ago the whole way back. It wasn’t always easy with Yennefer, but he thought he was starting to understand her a little more. Maybe they could even be friends from then on. And she did smell good all the time.</p><p>“You never said you could do that. Or at least you never tried before.”</p><p>“It gets boring after a while. You categorize everyone’s emotions and then they just start to blend. It’s also tiring, demands too much.” She explained as they walked out of the temple.</p><p>“I don’t think I would ever be bored. Imagine feeling whatever people are feeling when you sing to them, make love to them…” that put another image in Jaskier’s head.</p><p>“That’s because in mage years you’re a child. Everything is new and exciting.”</p><p>“I am <em>not</em> a child just because I’m more emotionally available than you.” At that, Yennefer only smiled.</p><p>---</p><p>They didn’t take the portal back to the campsite. Walking helped them digest everything that happened, and if they were honest, it would shorten the little truce that was happening. Jaskier was a little weak though, so, for once, they barely talking. The sun was almost coming up, the sky had silver rays of warm colors in the horizon. It was truly a beautiful scene, a scene that was being completely ignored. Yennefer wouldn’t leave her eyes from the poet for a second, afraid he would collapse any second.</p><p>In truth, Jaskier was trying to avoid the inevitable storm coming from a very angry and awaiting Geralt. The decision to walk made it seem like it all had been a really long nightmare, although his bones and injured skin felt and looked otherwise. Suddenly, a light hand slid down carefully to find his own. He was surprised but welcomed the touch anyway. Very slowly, Jaskier turned his palm upwards to intertwine their fingers. He didn’t dare turn his head in her direction, unaware she could hear his fast heartbeat.</p><p>An alert Geralt was up and pacing, eyes in their direction as they approached.</p><p>“What the hell happened?” the witcher’s yellow eyes went from one to another then to their joined hands.</p><p>“Calm down.” Yennefer said coldly.</p><p>“Took you long enough.” He ignored her warning but got a simple eyeroll in return. “It’s dawn. Why didn’t you bring him back through a portal? He looks like he’s about to fall to the ground face first.”</p><p>“Well, hello to you too, Geralt. Yes, it’s nice seeing you too. I’m doing great, peachy and all I really, really want right now is a lecture.” Jaskier found his voice, although a little tired, still had the usual bite.</p><p>“You don’t have shoes.” Geralt stated.</p><p>“Aren’t you observant?” Jaskier mocked with a laugh. “No, I don’t have any shoes, I also lost a lot of dignity, some blood and my lute. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to rest a little. Unless you absolutely need to leave right now. In that case, I might need a lift on that horse of yours that no one can touch unless one is dying. Does my state scream dying enough or should I pass out first?”</p><p>Geralt’s face was distorted with rage, not towards the bard nor the sorcerer. He was pissed no one explained anything, upset he wasn’t the one to bring the bard back. But that would have to wait. He knew he needed to give Jaskier some space, the poet looked like he’d been through hell and back. Besides, something in the witcher’s gut said he didn’t spend the last few days running from someone’s mad husband.</p><p>“Jaskier, I’m going to prepare a separate tent with a bath so you can clean up. You stink of piss and blood. Call me when you’re done so I can apply some herbs on your cuts.” Yennefer ordered more sweetly, or less authoritarian, than either of them was used to. Jaskier nodded back and tried passing by Geralt to get to his bag.</p><p>Geralt watched his every move with desperate and confused eyes. He grabbed the bard’s arm, who flinched a little, his body sore.</p><p>“Please, tell me what happened.” His voice barely a whisper.</p><p>“Just some guys waiting for you, mad you killed the bruxa. They locked me up hoping you’d go back looking for me. Honestly, it wasn’t all bad. I was more bored than anything.” Jaskier replied, a little pink coloring his cheeks. Of course it had been bad, of course it pained him a little that it took Geralt so long to go back, or rather send someone else back, and look for him.</p><p>Geralt didn’t say anything and after a few seconds Jaskier took that as his cue to free himself and walked towards a larger, new tent it had appeared with Yennefer’s magic. A sudden smell of gooseberries and lilacs filling the air around them. It would be nice to relax a little. The inside of the tent didn’t disappoint; there was a bed with clean clothes, a table with fresh fruit and a wooden bathtub with warm water, smelling of lavender. On the other side, a beautiful new lute rested against one of the poles of the tent. Though the sun was almost up, the tent’s fabric was heavy and dark, making it look like it was nightfall. It was almost like he had been transported to an entirely different place.</p><p>For an hour or so, he didn’t hear anything from the outside of the tent. Jaskier got his so deserved warm bath and tried cleaning his wounds the best he could. When he was finished, he put on his underclothes before lying down on the soft bed. A sleepy smile played on his lips and soon he was falling asleep.</p><p>Jaskier woke up to the sound of a bottle opening, his vision was a little blurred, but he could see Geralt with a cork between his teeth. The witcher’s wounded arm was bandaged and didn’t allow his arm to move, but his good arm did all the work perfectly. Under the bandaged there was no shirt. It seemed like Jaskier wasn’t the only one bathing, Geralt looked fresh too, wet locks, lavender scent. With a damp piece of cloth with whatever was inside the tiny, glass bottle, Geralt turned in his direction. Jaskier blinked a few times, adjusting his eyes to the scene and sat up against the pillows, his body aching. A smile cocky played on the bard’s lips. He felt much better, ready to go back to his usual self. But getting pampered? It was almost impossible for Jaskier to control his mouth.</p><p>“Well, aren’t you a vision to wake up to?” his voice husky from sleep.</p><p>“Hmm.” Geralt grunted before taking the cork from his mouth and closing the bottle. “Take your shirt off.”</p><p>“At least buy me dinner first.” The bard joked weakly ignoring how his heart had skipped a bit at the shameless flirting.</p><p>Jaskier stripped as asked and looked down at the wounds on his torso. The scars didn’t look so bad, but he wasn’t about to dismiss the big man from taking care of him. To be fair, Geralt never left Jaskier unattended when he needed. But to aid him with herbs… That was a first. Maybe it was guilt – yes, that was more plausible. Geralt’s eyebrows were knitted together, his eyes focused on Jaskier’s naked chest. The wither’s jaw clenched.</p><p>“I know I’m not muscular as you, but to be fair I don’t think anyone is.” Jaskier tried joking again as Geralt rubbed the medicine on the cuts, he felt the burn. “Be careful now, please.”</p><p>Geralt’s hand was steady and cautious. The warmth from their closeness contrasted perfectly with the sting from the herbs. Jaskier bit down on his hurt lip trying not to make a sound, watching attentively every time the witcher pressed the cloth carefully to each and every little cut.</p><p>“Turn around.” Geralt asked softly when he was done, his breath like a feather against his skin.</p><p>There were fewer cuts on his back, more scrapes than anything, but they burned like a bitch. Jaskier couldn’t help but wince at the touch.</p><p>“I’m sorry.” Geralt whispered on the bard’s ear, making it painfully aware how much closer he was now. Jaskier moved his head a little in his direction careful not to ruin the moment. It wasn’t often that Geralt got so close to him, less often that he apologized.</p><p>“It doesn’t burn so bad after a few seconds.” Jaskier explained almost whispering.</p><p>“No, I’m sorry…” Geralt trailed off and exhaled loudly from his nose, shivers going down the bard’s back. “For what happened.”</p><p>“It wasn’t… It wasn’t your fault exactly.” Jaskier tried easing the situation, thinking much more about how his body was reacting. It wasn’t much, but it was powerful enough to leave him thinking about it for weeks on end. “They were just a bunch of dumb cavemen.”</p><p>“Still. You shouldn’t have been left alone for so long.”</p><p>Geralt gave a step back and Jaskier allowed himself to turn around and watch the remorseful witcher grab the bottle and walk to the tent’s opening to leave.</p><p>“You should eat something. We’ll leave at dawn.” Geralt explained.</p><p>“Is it night already?” Jaskier wondered trying to see through Geralt and the tent’s opening, but his body blocked most of it.</p><p>“Almost.” Geralt confirmed.</p><p>“And Yennefer?” Jaskier wondered and Geralt was surprised at the concern on his voice.</p><p>“She’s resting. Too much magic can take up too much of her energy.” Geralt explained. “Now eat something and get more sleep. The next town is a little further than usual.”</p><p>“Oh, but I’m so wounded. I think I’ll need to ride Roach to keep up with you. Look at my poor feet!” Jaskier mocked in a dramatic tone. At that, Geralt failed to suppress a smile.</p><p>“We’ll see about that.” The witcher replied. “I’m sorry again.” He repeated, in a more serious tone looking directly into the bard’s eyes.</p><p>“Don’t sweat it.” Jaskier assured him. “You smell like onions when you do.”</p><p>“Goodnight, Jaskier.”</p><p>“Night, Geralt.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Satisfaction feels like a distance memory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Well, folks, as much as I’d like to stay and see what happens next, I don’t really know if you’ll rip off your clothes or heads, so I’ll be leaving now.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've been making a playlist of songs I listen to while I write (and songs that remind me of them).<br/>For this chapter: Glitter &amp; Gold by Barns Courtney / R U Mine? by Arctic Monkeys</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next few days they spent travelling almost non-stop. They were lucky Geralt respected his horse’s wishes, because only when Roach was thirsty, hungry, or tired, they stopped to rest. The witcher promised that they would stay longer at Hannu, both Geralt and Yennefer had business there, and that they wouldn’t be sleeping in the middle of a forest this time. They would even have food made for them and not by them. Jaskier spent his hours making plans, out loud, mind you, to sit and write, drink, and play in all the pubs he could find. He also used his convalescent card to convince Geralt to come along, which, to be honest, didn’t need much convincing. He did not look excited to go, but he didn’t say “no” on the spot – and that was a win in his book. Jaskier’s new lute made him so happy that the other two felt it was nearly impossible to stop him from playing the damn thing. Neither dared to, though. Instead, they caught themselves refraining from smiling at the bard’s giddiness.</p>
<p>They arrived at Hannu at midday. Yennefer had some history with the city, knew some people from Aretuza who lived there, and so they were allowed a free room at an inn. As soon as they settled, Yennefer excused herself to go on about her business; she would meet them at the bar, later. Jaskier didn’t waste a second before jumping on the queen-sized bed.</p>
<p>“Ah, yes.”</p>
<p>“Oh, no.” Geralt replied quickly and pointed towards a small, single bed, obviously for a child. “That’s your bed.”</p>
<p>“I am not a child. I am a full-grown man that’s been wounded…”</p>
<p>“You weren’t that wounded charming your way into a performance tonight.”</p>
<p>A dramatic gasp, hand on chest, lips gaping open like a fish. Geralt turned around smirking as he organized his bottles on a dark wooden chest.</p>
<p>“D-don’t change the subject. I think we should take turns.” Jaskier tried.</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Don’t be so resolute. Not even Yennefer would deny me that.”</p>
<p>“You wouldn’t dare ask her that.”</p>
<p>“True.” The bard accepted. “But she’s been acting nice lately, so who knows?”</p>
<p>“I know.” Geralt looked over his shoulder at Jaskier. “I’m going to find some herbs and ingredients. I’m almost out of some potions. Are you coming?”</p>
<p>“Sure. I’d like to see more of Hannu than the almost nothing you both told me.”</p>
<p>“There isn’t much to say. It’s a calm—”</p>
<p>“A calm town, yes, yes. You’ve said that.” Jaskier rolled his eyes. “And since when do you like quiet?”</p>
<p>“Always. Doesn’t mean I always get it.” He arched an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“HA! That’s what you keep telling yourself. You wouldn’t survive alone anymore, Geralt.” He mocked. “You’re lucky Yennefer will be able to keep you company for some centuries and there’s still the child. If it were only me, you’d need to make some plans for the next forty to fifty years.”</p>
<p>Jaskier was laughing, but the humor left Geralt’s expression. It was so natural the way he joked about his mortality; it puzzled the witcher. He, more than anyone, was aware of humans’ span of life, but never from the perspective of losing someone he cared about. And Jaskier just seemed at peace with it.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Geralt and Jaskier walked around town for a couple of hours, sweat damping their shirts and hair. It was hotter than the past couple of days had been and their heavy clothes were starting to be an inconvenience. That didn’t stop Jaskier to invite every merchant to his show that night. Not once did Geralt rushed him, just watched from a distance until he was ready to move on. When the poet noticed the witcher’s grave expression, he proposed they’d go back to the inn to freshen up and get early to the pub.</p>
<p>“I could use a beer or two. It’s so darn hot today, ain’t it?”</p>
<p>“Hm.”</p>
<p>“You’re awfully agreeable.” Jaskier teased. “Is it still the guilt of leaving me in that den for so long?”</p>
<p>Geralt didn’t reply, barely looked at him while he stripped from his damp shirt. Jaskier appreciated the view and didn’t avert his eyes.</p>
<p>“But seriously, is it? Is it guilt? You don’t have to feel like that. You couldn’t have known…”</p>
<p>“I knew it was a possibility. I should have imagined.” Geralt finally replied, his angry tone surprising both.</p>
<p>“Don’t be stupid.” Jaskier scoffed. Geralt snapped his back in his direction and puckered his lips. “The pout is cute, but, really, let’s just forget about it, ok? Tonight, I just want to play this beautiful lady here, get silly drunk, tons of coins and good food. I really need new clothes. Yennefer says she’ll give me clothes when I need, but I can never pick. That time I ripped my underpants and she gave me the tightest piece of cloth. I thought my nuts would go up to my stomach and I would start to sound like a lyrical bard. Have you ever heard of such a thing? Sometimes I think she does it on purpose. But I have forgiven her for giving me this lute, although she broke the other one when she saved…”</p>
<p>Desperate to change the subject, Jaskier grabbed the lute in his hands and turned back to Geralt.</p>
<p>“Seriously, do you think I should name her? I mean, this is the second… third time? Yes, I think this is the third time I lose a lute to a fight of sorts. Maybe I shouldn’t get attached.” Jaskier looked back at the lute. Beautiful strings, stunning neck. “I just can’t help myself. It’s so easy to fall in love…”</p>
<p>It’s like the words escaped him, without restraint, careless, but all true. When he looked up again, Geralt’s eyes were boring into him like a wolf observing its next prey. It wasn’t a hard look, just intense and confused. The words weighing on his throat and his heart.</p>
<p>“You know, when I said to come back and get changed, I did mean to put on other clothes. We can stay without them later if you fancy—”</p>
<p>“Shut up, Jaskier.”</p>
<p>“Yup.”</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>The place was crowded. They asked the innkeeper to give Yennefer a message and left. Jaskier blabbed the whole way about how Yen would definitely find them regardless because she had a <em>brain thingie</em> that could get inside their heads, and that led to a whole other process of thoughts on how she could be manipulating both of them without them even noticing. It was actually impressive how much he could talk without going hoarse.</p>
<p>It didn’t take long for Geralt to be noticed. Soon a pirate looking guy was dragging him to a table full of bearded men thirsty for his stories at sea they heard once upon a time. The witcher let himself be dragged away when he saw Jaskier was going to the small stage with his lute. He entertained the men for a few minutes but refused to say another word when Jaskier started to play. The bard looked like he was fucking glowing on stage, like he hadn’t been taken hostage for days just recently. He was all smiles and winks, kiss blowing and fast fingers against the strings. Soon, people joined him in choruses and claps.</p>
<p>It was in the middle of a song about two lovers at a paradisiac beach that Yennefer entered the room wearing a dark blue dress. Her eyes were glued to the singer, amused, tight lips, but smiling eyes accompanying his every move. Slowly, she made her way to an empty table in the middle of the room and let her chin rest on her right hand, ignoring the many eyes following her. Yennefer had watched him perform so many times, yet it still stunned her how much passion he put in every word, how he ignored the sweat dripping down his face, the fine cuts from the chords callousing his fingers with every strike. Something so simple as performing fulfilled him – she couldn’t say she related, but she understood him more and more.</p>
<p>As if he felt her eyes on him, Jaskier eyes found her. He ignored her bored resting face and dropped his lute to invite everyone to clap along the song, by then they had memorized the chorus and repeated amid drunk slurs and happy laughs. He took advantage of that moment to walk quickly in her direction and, in a courageous move motivated by the electric energy in the air, extended a hand to the violet sorcerer in front of him. Yennefer glared at him but got up like they were alone and not in a packed room full of strangers.</p>
<p>When Jaskier snaked his hand around her waist, people cheered and clapped harder, stomped their feet still in the rhythm of the song. With a twirl, he danced around her, who was trying her best to suppress a big smile. It had been too long since she let herself enjoy a good dance. When one lives too long, everything starts to sound and look boring, old – it was easy to forget what makes you truly live. But Jaskier always acted like he was having the time of his life; it didn’t matter if he was being heard by one or one hundred people. It didn’t matter if they clapped or threw food on him in the end. He always found a way to leave with a smile. And when they weren’t bickering, he was quite an enjoyable company.</p>
<p>Yennefer amused him by putting her arm around his neck, their foreheads touching while their bodies danced until he finished singing. Soon, the claps diminished, and everyone turned their attention to their own worlds. The sorcerer lifted her right hand to his cheek, feeling the little bit of scruff of a growing beard, the hair softer than the witcher’s. Jaskier grabbed her hand and smacked a kiss to her palm, his body still tingling, his eyes shining like two stones.</p>
<p>“Thank you, dear, that was lovely.” He said feeling her breath on his face.</p>
<p>“Is this how you dismiss your romantic affairs?” she questioned with a quirk of an eyebrow. Jaskier gave her a surprised look but crooked a smile.</p>
<p>“Not really. Normally, we’d be wearing much less…”</p>
<p>And before he could finish, a known hand rested firmly on his shoulder from behind. Geralt’s eyes darted between them but said nothing. His hand didn’t leave Jaskier’s shoulder either. The poet felt his whole body go mush for a bit, he really needed a relief. Yennefer and Geralt stared at each other and that was the bard’s cue to leave before his body could start responding to the growing tension between them. He didn’t think Yennefer was shy to strip down right then and there if she damn well wished.</p>
<p>“Well, folks, as much as I’d like to stay and see what happens next, I don’t really know if you’ll rip off your clothes or heads, so I’ll be leaving now.”</p>
<p>As the bard left, Geralt’s eyes followed him and then went back to Yennefer. She looked smug and stunning. The witcher pulled her body to his and kissed her, the familiar taste inebriating his senses much quicker than the several beers he’d just had.</p>
<p>“Didn’t know you dance.” Geralt said when they pulled apart.</p>
<p>“I can do anything. I just don’t if I don’t want to.”</p>
<p>“Hmm.”</p>
<p>He grabbed her hand pulled her to his table. Half of the men had left; the other half looked drunk while betting and playing cards. “Didn’t think you’d want to dance with Jaskier.”</p>
<p>That got her attention. Yennefer looked him straight in the eyes, as if trying to read into what he had just said.</p>
<p>“That’s not a good color on you.” She stated playing with an earring.</p>
<p>“I’m not…” and he wasn’t. There was a silence, but his expression reassured her.</p>
<p>“He just spent a week in a cell, barely had any food or water.”</p>
<p>Yennefer didn’t have to explain any further. In her head, she, somehow, delayed his rescue. Despite it all, he still smiled at her.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>On the other side of the room, Jaskier was showing off his lute and being the center of attention for a smaller group of people. “Did that really happen?”, “You really saw a dragon?”, “You can’t be serious! A kikimora?”. He answered and colored the stories a bit more while getting free drinks from anyone who wondered about the songs and from anyone who wondered about what was in his pants. An inspiring poet had sparkles in his eyes, he looked young, but his beard could trick anyone not paying close attention. It was flattering to feel so important is other people’s eyes. When a group conversation became a dialogue between the two, they sat closer and ordered more beer.</p>
<p>“I don’t know if I would be brave enough to follow a witcher like that. I kind of just stay here waiting for things to happen, but they never do.” The young poet confessed. “Honestly, it’s so rare to have such interesting people come by.”</p>
<p>“If you don’t go out there, it is going to be harder to learn and to live, consequently, to write.” Jaskier said after licking his lips clean. “There are so many places to explore, people to meet… Each with their own story, their own experiences.”</p>
<p>“I bet.” He replied a little shy, his cheeks coloring. “I have a lot to learn…” despite the apparent shyness, Jaskier felt a hand rest on his knee, to which his needing body responded quickly. “Would you have time to teach me a thing or two before you go?”</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>It was hard to see outside, but, eventually, Jaskier found a little path through the bushes that led to a more reserved corner, against the stone wall. He looked back to his newly made friend, Elan, he introduced himself earlier, gesturing the spot.</p>
<p>Not only Jaskier’s body was in need of attention, but he could also easily convince someone else they were the only person in the room, or bush, if you please. Elan closed the space between them with an eager kiss on the bard’s waiting lips. Curious hands quickly learned where to touch, the places that would earn him more, louder moans. Jaskier was everything but shy about his likes and dislikes. He let his head drop back against the wall when the guy’s teeth slid across the vein in his neck.</p>
<p>“Now you don’t go using those teeth anywhere else, do you hear me?”</p>
<p>Elan responded with a thrust of his hips against Jaskier’s, trying to satisfy a much-needed friction. Jaskier felt warm all over despite the cold stones of the wall against his back.</p>
<p>“You don’t seem so inexperienced as you mentioned.” Jaskier noticed when Elan slid down a hand down his pants, trying to find the best rhythm he could in the still buttoned pants. “Your hand feels amazing.”</p>
<p>“It’s not hard to read you.” Elan said feeling him twitch in his hand.</p>
<p>“I think it’s hard alright.” Jaskier moaned louder, eyes rolling back, when he felt a thumb brushing against the wet tip of his cock.</p>
<p>At that, Elan managed to unbutton Jaskier’s pants far enough to free the bard’s hard cock. He then planted kissed on his neck and shoulders and kneeled. Jaskier opened his eyes and stared down at the red-haired young poet.</p>
<p>“Are you waiting for permission? Because have it.”</p>
<p>Without wasting another second, Elan’s mouth closed around Jaskier, sucking eagerly from base to tip, feeling Jaskier’s thigh shake at every move under his hand.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Inside the pub, Geralt gave a loud sigh and looked around expecting to find Jaskier still talking with the same group of people, but there was no Jaskier to be found. People were drunker now, louder. That and the many ales and beers clouded the witcher’s enhanced senses. He looked to his left to find Yennefer’s eyes also searching; her mouth was a little purple from the wine.</p>
<p>“I don’t think he left.” She said imagining what Geralt was about to ask.</p>
<p>“Then where the fuck is he?”</p>
<p>Geralt closed his eyes to try to focus on his surroundings and listened closely. He stood up suddenly, his jaw clenching. Yennefer was startled by the sudden movement and guessed what was happening by Geralt’s expression. She finished her wine, foreseeing what was about to happen.</p>
<p>“Don’t be an asshole.” She turned his chin in her direction and kissed him lightly. “If he’s having his fun, we could go back to the room and have fun too.” When he didn’t move, she insisted. “He’s safe, we can go.”</p>
<p>They shared a knowing look but said nothing. Geralt walked out with like he had a purpose. She tried stalling him purposely walking slower, pulling his hand.</p>
<p>“Can you hurry up? I can’t stop listening to him… It’s like I can’t turn it off now.” The witcher explained like he was being tortured. Yennefer looked amused and curious.</p>
<p>“Yen… please.”</p>
<p>She wasn’t immune to the witcher’s heartbeat, surprisingly, speeding up. Yennefer pushed him against the wall and grabbed him by the collar and kissing him fiercely. Geralt felt the brush of her tongue against his. Soon he was roaming his hands all over her body, she was not exactly sure if he were still paying attention to moans right around the corner. They were clear as day, Jaskier’s moans, groans, pleads and directions, she could almost picture the whole scene, step by step. And when Geralt’s groans of pleasure as if in response to Jaskier’s sounds, she knew he was, indeed, very much aware of them. The mage pulled his lips between her teeth and Geralt let tightened his hands against her hips.</p>
<p>“For fuck’s sake…” and with that, he punched the wall behind him.</p>
<p>Yennefer didn’t even blink. It was kind of a turn on to watch Geralt get flustered to that point.</p>
<p>“Let’s go. Now.”</p>
<p>Jaskier wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his dress shirt and pulled up his pants, still trying to catch his breath. Poor young Elan in front of him didn’t even get his chance at anything, finishing in his own pants half-way through everything. Usually, Jaskier would insist, invite him over, but he remembered he didn’t have a room to himself that night.</p>
<p>“You’re a fast learner, lovey.” Jaskier said watching him blush and try to hide his ruined pants with his overcoat. “Hopefully, you’ll find your inspiration for all the songs you think of writing. You know, keep up the good work and live prosper, travel… and stuff.”</p>
<p>Jaskier wanted to go back inside to find Geralt and Yennefer, make sure that he wasn’t going categorically insane. But he was pretty damn sure he heard Geralt groan a few moments before he spilled inside the young poet’s mouth. But maybe it was just wishful thinking, pent up desire. Maybe he had memorized the witcher’s noises and they now just played in his head whenever Jaskier needed to come. That would definitely become a song.</p>
<p>Elan said something about meeting again somewhere, maybe, in the future, to which Jaskier replied “Sure, sure. We’ll do.” and left after kissing him goodbye. Inside the pub, there was no Geralt to be found, no Yennefer either. Jaskier panicked a little but grabbed his lute and asked the two pirates still playing cards where they had been sitting before.</p>
<p>“They left a little while ago.” The man answered.</p>
<p>“Thank you, mate.”</p>
<p>Jaskier walked back making plans to sit and write a little before Yennefer demanded it was time to sleep. Then he would finally sleep comfortably with no rush to leave in the morning. Maybe now things could go back as they were. When he arrived, Roach was resting outside, which made Jaskier relax a little bit more, they were back already.</p>
<p>He reached the door, whistling to himself, and didn’t think twice before stepping in and shutting the door behind him. Then there was a grunt. Then another, and a whimper. Jaskier froze. It was one thing to hear in a distance the love making, get a glimpse of a tit or see the shadow of a dong when they bathed in a river of sorts. Another thing was to actually be in the same place as them, to witness the action. But also something Jaskier had imagined in his head countless times during sleepless nights. Whatever he had imagined before didn’t come close to the majestic scene he allowed himself to watch.</p>
<p>Geralt and Yennefer were standing completely naked next to a large, open window. Yen rested had her hand against a wall, balancing herself while Geralt pounded her from behind, one of his hands playing with her nipple, the other had two fingers inside her mouth. Her eyes were closed, and she looked lost in ecstasy. Jaskier couldn’t see Geralt’s face, as he was hiding behind her loose hair, but there was no doubt they knew he had arrived. He didn’t think there was anything that could stop them at that moment. The pale moon painted the most magnificent glow on their skin. The bard was gaping, his body reacting like he hadn’t just had his cock sucked a moment ago.</p>
<p>It was so easy to want them right then and there. He could kneel in front of Yen and lick her clean while Geralt kept his, soundly, good work. He could also step behind Geralt and take <em>him</em>, bite his back in the process, leave his mark too. A good mark. Not a war mark, a love mark. Jaskier felt himself twitch inside his pants, aching for attention. He swallowed hard, trying not to move, afraid they would simply disappear before his eyes.</p>
<p>As if to prove this was indeed very much real, Yen opened her eyes in his direction, eyelids half close, and let out a loud moan without breaking eye contact with him. This was bliss and torture all wrapped in one. Geralt pulled his fingers from her mouth and twisted her hair on his hand. His yellow eyes finally meeting Jaskier. He muttered something unintelligible and turned Yennefer towards the window. Her upper body basically out of the window as he sped up his thrusts, grabbing her by the hips, flexing the muscles in his ass, his thighs. It was too much, Jaskier felt like he was going to combust. It didn’t take long, though, and Geralt was curling his toes against the floor, his back trembling, forehead resting on the crook of Yennefer’s neck.</p>
<p>Disoriented, Jaskier didn’t know whether to stay or flee. Panting, they separated from each other, glistening in sweat. But their expression? Like nothing even happened. They weren’t unaware of Jaskier’s presence, they just… didn’t care? Yennefer reached out for her white nightgown and Geralt sat down on the bed. The bard couldn’t take another minute of this utter nonsense, his cock agreeing wholeheartedly. When Jaskier saw Yennefer opening her mouth, he thought she would at least have the curtesy of apologizing for not stopping.</p>
<p>“Didn’t think it would do it for you that fast.” She said at the witcher.</p>
<p>Well, served Jaskier right for assuming.</p>
<p>“Are we… are we not assessing the-<em>this</em>?” he swallowed hard. “I mean, one thing is mistakenly hearing some sounds that I do try to ignore, but the other… Oh, this is too much! Even for you guys. I mean, I was <em>abandoned</em> and then I come back walking, relieved to see poor Roach outside...”</p>
<p>Geralt snorted.</p>
<p>“You weren’t abandoned, you ran out to have your dick sucked in an alley.” Geralt stared. “And he probably didn’t do a good job if you’re still that worked up.”</p>
<p>At that, Yennefer gave him a look.</p>
<p>“I thought you’d know by now that I’m not shy.” She added wrapping her hair in a bun. “And by the moans we heard, neither are you. I wouldn’t be surprised if half of the pub heard you cry out directions on how to deep-throat.”</p>
<p>“Yen…” Geralt warned turning to his side, ready to sleep soundly.</p>
<p>It wasn’t often that Jaskier was left speechless, but the night resumed that way. He was back right where he had always been – hot and bothered. Now with visuals to last an eternity. Well, he did get his wish: things would go back to normal. Just more intensely, it seemed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for the response! &lt;3<br/>Joey Babey's video inspired me tons to edit and review this chapter. Hopefully it's readable.</p>
<p>Twitter: @purplescool<br/>Tumblr: purpleplaidshirt</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Would things be easier if there was a right way</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Well, I have tried flirting before.” he said it playing with the hem of his shirt. “He just never made the move.”<br/>“You flirt with everyone!” she accused.<br/>“Not everyone!”<br/>“Just the ones who interact with you.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well, this one took a while. Who reads notes anyway?<br/>Unbetad, but would accept one. :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt had lived far too long and had been through far too much to care about social conventions. He never cared about monogamy or marriage; he also didn’t stay anywhere long enough to connect deeply with someone. Yes, he had mostly been with women, but he was no stranger to a man’s body. Geralt saw some of that disregard for traditions in Jaskier as well; the poet loved as he wrote, impulsively, attentively; it was like the moment they shared - pen and paper, skin and skin - was the only thing happening in the world. Geralt could be hard to read and he didn’t share much of his thoughts, and even though he didn’t put in words, he knew they had a connection no one would be able to shake. He learned his friend’s quirks; the way he creased his brows when he was writing, and how he licked his lower lip and nodded when he was satisfied with the lyrics in front of him; he was so loyal it was almost irritating at times, and he flirted like it was his mother tongue - a trait Geralt got used to but knew the poet wasn’t serious.</p><p>There was a silver of lightning creeping in the bedroom through the large, open window, but it wasn’t morning just yet. Geralt squinted looking outside but he knew daylight was not the reason he had woken up. He sat up against the bedhead, locking his jaw and twisting the sheet covering his legs between his fingers. Across the bedroom, not too far and too easy to see, Jaskier whimpered against his pillow - his lips let out a shaky breath, but he was clearly still asleep. Another squeak came from the small bed, suffering with the poet’s thrusts against the cushion. It was almost impossible to ignore it, Geralt felt like he was surrounded by him, sounds, noise, smell. Against his will, the witcher turned away from the window and looked at his friend.</p><p>The witcher’s musings were interrupted by a hand snaking up his thigh under the blanket. He could feel Yennefer’s eyes staring up at him but decided not to look back. Geralt put a hand on her wandering one to stop what she was about to do. That only gave her the fuel to be more daring. Yennefer sat up beside him, one of her breasts exposed from her loose white gown and planted a soft kiss on the base of his neck before whispering something in his ear. From the other bed, Jaskier let out a throaty moan. They watched together his hand slipping down his body, then thrusting again. Geralt didn’t remember when he let go of Yennefer, but her hand found him again - hardening, willing, ready. Her fingers worked around him, hot, soft, spreading the leak from the tip around the head and down his length.</p><p>Jaskier seemed lost in the safety of the dreams in his head, like there was no one else in the room. His lower lip was caught between his teeth, bruising further the recently healed skin, and his movement increasing, almost choreographically. Yennefer sped up her hand a little, and Geralt tried to suppress a moan, but let out a grunt and a swear. It was loud enough to jolt Jaskier from his very nice dream. He stilled his body, but they heard his heartbeat flying against his chest. With a sudden motion, Geralt got up, wrapped the sheet around his hips and left the bedroom. Jaskier counted to ten in his head and slowly opened one of his eyes to find Yennefer alone on the bed staring at him with a sleepy smile playing in her perfectly outlined lips.</p><p>“Sweet dreams?”</p><p>“Shit.” he mumbled against his pillow.</p><p>---</p><p>They were all sitting at a long table waiting for breakfast. No one was talking. Yennefer had a withered looking book in her lap, Geralt was simply staring at the tea in front of him and Jaskier was fighting the urge to close his heavy eyelids. The poet had barely slept a wink, which didn’t seem to be the case for his fellow companions, and when he finally did, he managed to dream of a calloused, big hand travelling down his body.</p><p>As promised, Geralt still had plans to stay. Today he would go look for some specific herbs in the forest, the ones he didn’t find at the market the previous day and mix some potions that couldn’t be mixed without a ritual of sorts. He would take the day to prepare his potions alone. Usually, Jaskier would take advantage of those alone hours to go look for new clothes and mix his own oils, bathing salts and healing herbs – he didn’t need to be alone for that, though – but he didn’t think he had the strength to be so productive, Jaskier really needed a nap. Nobody talked about what had happened the night before. They acted normally, just quieter, barely exchanged words before going down to eat. </p><p>Fahler, the innkeeper, stopped by the table to take their order and chat with Yennefer as soon as they sat down. Apparently, she had met him when he was still a child and would help his mother in the kitchen. Now he was in his fifties, had four healthy children, who were now young adults, all thanks to the mage’s work, according to Fahler himself. When Fahler’s wife was giving birth to their first child, she lost a lot of blood and nearly died. Yennefer was the one to help treat her; their other three children were born without any problems, all births blessed by her magic hands.</p><p>After a while, the man returned with a wooden tray that had way more food than they had ordered. He had a smile splattered on his face when he put down the food in front of them, singing praises to Yennefer, who, surprisingly, didn’t look uncomfortable or annoyed. Jaskier watched attentively but didn’t say a word. He was in no place to tease anyone about anything, figuring she had way more cards up her sleeve against him.</p><p>“I handpicked the apples for you juice myself, lady Yennefer.” Fahler looked proud, it was almost comical. “I hope you stay for the festival; everyone will be there. I really wish you’d meet my grandson, he’s almost two now.”</p><p>“I can’t guarantee I will be here, Fahler.” Yennefer said bluntly.</p><p>“I understand.” the man cast his eyes down shyly.</p><p>“But if I do, you will be the first to know. I’d like to meet your grandson.”</p><p>“Thank you.” he smiled big. “I will leave you to your food now. Let me know if you need anything else.” Fahler left with the tray under his arm.</p><p>“<em>Lady</em> Yennefer?” Jaskier raised an eyebrow and a piece of bread flew in his direction.</p><p>“Some people still have manners.” she shrugged.</p><p>“I have plenty of manners.” the poet talked back, his mouth full of bread, a splash of grape jam in the corner of his mouth.</p><p>“Evidently.” Yennefer grinned.</p><p>Geralt gave a snort, amused with the interaction between them. The bickering was still strong but sounded softer. Yennefer had been with them for longer than she had ever been before, and he was worried that might become sour at some point; one of them would surely snap. It had not been the case so far, though. Sure, they got into it a lot, almost non-stop, but the exchanges had been less and less vile, the words less poisoned, less hurtful. They even danced together - a scene Geralt couldn’t get off his mind. The witcher was relieved for the couple of days they were spending without trouble; it almost made him wonder if that were how his life would be if he retired. But that led to other thoughts such as mortality and humanity, which he wasn’t ready to face just yet. He was snapped out of his thoughts when Jaskier gasped dramatically while Yennefer scooped his jam with her finger before putting in her mouth.</p><p>“And you talk about manners! Honestly, I don’t think even Geralt would do that.” he looked absolutely disgusted. Geralt twisted his face in the poet’s direction. Jaskier moved the jam away.</p><p>“I have never in my entire life met someone as dramatic as you.” Yennefer’s eyes twinkled with mischief and amusement.</p><p>“Well, I was raised to behave during meals and I like to appreciate the food that is set in front of me when it’s not done by either of you.” he pointed with a knife. “So, excuse me if I feel a certain way when you finger my food without my permission. Besides, I don’t know where you stick your finger on occasion.” he mumbled the last part.</p><p>“So, if I asked, you’d let me?” she looked like she could keep this going for eternity.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You’d let me finger you if I asked?”</p><p>“Yes, I mean, no! I-I… not me, what are you…” Jaskier looked to Geralt for help, but the witcher had his brows up, looking like he was enjoying this too much to intervene. “I’m too tired for this, dear gods. I just want to finish this and take a nap.”</p><p>The other two chuckled but resumed their breakfast without teasing the bard any further. They ended up eating way more than they had planned, Jaskier was ready to open his doublets and fall asleep right then and there. Geralt noticed that and decided it was time to go get going and leave them to rest a little. They would be safe at the inn if they didn’t end up killing each other at some point.</p><p>“I’ll be back by nightfall.” the witcher announced starting to get up. “You’ll stay here.”</p><p>“It’s funny how your questions sound like an order. But, yes, I will stay here. I really need some rest, and I was thinking of writing a little.”</p><p>“Tell me you have new verses and I won’t have to listen to the one over and over again today.” Yennefer feigned annoyance to tease him.</p><p>“Well, <em>lady Yennefer</em>, you might as well go look for your great grandchildren of another nana to meet. You heard Fahler, they’re crazy to meet you!”</p><p>Yennefer didn’t look hurt, she looked almost…</p><p>“I’m proud.” she replied with a hand over her heart and a smile on her face. “You have finally learned a good comeback after being around me for so long.”</p><p>Jaskier looked at Geralt, warning eyes, pursed lips.</p><p>“Don’t... kill each other.” Geralt pleaded. He turned to Yennefer. “You’ll stay too.”</p><p>“I’m not going to grace you with an answer.” she said simply. Geralt pursed his lips and left looking a little annoyed. Yennefer turned to Jaskier with no intent of leaving him alone. “So, that jam in the corner of your mouth… saving for a snack later?”</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Back in the bedroom, Yennefer displayed her own supplies of potions, oils, and elixirs on a small table across the room, checking to see their levels and shaking the biphasic ones. Jaskier had changed into more comfortable clothes and sat on his small bed with pen and paper in hand. He had been humming a melody here and there and couldn’t wait to put words to go with it. Both respected their private moments and didn’t seem bothered by each other’s company. It wasn’t often that they kept their mouth shuts while in the same place, but it seemed easy… peaceful even. </p><p>After scribbling for some time, he looked up and saw Yennefer mixing shiny, dark liquids into a new vial. She looked deeply focused with the task in her hands. Jaskier held back the urge to go behind her and scare her like a naughty, little kid would - besides, he was still very fond of his balls and his life in general. He cleared his throat and saw Yennefer’s back straighten in response, but she didn’t turn back to look at him.</p><p>“Was it difficult to learn and memorize all that?” Jaskier tried. He was genuinely curious, had always been. His thirst for knowledge was a trait that could be easily misinterpreted for nosiness, but Yennefer knew better now.</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“I know you and Geralt have memorized thousands of recipes for oils and elixirs and whatnots, but do you have them written down? I mean, I don’t know. If I had lived for so long, I think I’d for sure mix recipes and create a poison instead of a healing potion too many times.”</p><p>“You absolutely would.” Yennefer gave out a little laugh. “I don’t know. Never thought much about it. I guess once you learn, after so many attempts and failures and redo, your hands just know the way, your nose recognizes the smells. I might forget an herb or a different ingredient if I haven’t tried doing a potion for some time. But we can always try to find the other mages and ask for help. We’re everywhere.”</p><p>“It really is amazing. I learned a couple of healing mixes for small stuff, like scratches, itches, and stuff like that. But what you do… Sometimes you don’t even use one of those.” Jaskier pointed to the tiny bottles in front her.</p><p>“Everything I do without using resources is just magic - they hurt others. It’s chaos; everything everyone is afraid of. No one wants that; it’s used for war. They say it’s protecting, but you protect by hurting someone else. Whatever you give someone, you take from someone else.”</p><p>Her answer was sharp and sounded heavy, but resolute. Jaskier had a thoughtful expression on his face, one she couldn’t really read through. It wasn’t pitty, it was something else. The poet got up and walked in her direction carefully.</p><p>“You think about that a lot, don’t you?”</p><p>“I used to. Now I’m in peace with it.” she said honestly.</p><p>“You are not chaos, you know?” Yennefer scoffed and turned her attention at the bottles again. “You can cause a hell lot of it, sure. But you’ve controlled it. You have it in you, but it doesn’t own you anymore.” Jaskier was feeling brave but was cautious with his words; Yennefer didn’t interrupt him, so he kept going. “I’m the one to say. I haven’t forgotten all those years ago with... the djinn.”</p><p>“Good. You shouldn’t.” she joked with a sly smile.</p><p>“You’ve softened, Yennefer of Vengerberg.” Jaskier said boldly. “And I like to think I had a hand in it.”</p><p>“I can still cut your balls without even touching you, bard.” she said it, putting the tiny bottles in a large bag and saw him cup himself from the corner of her eyes.</p><p>“You romanticize everything and everyone. I think it’s in your blood to see the world in bright colors or something. Or maybe that’s just humanity’s frailty that encourages people to have endless faith in others. Humans don’t live enough to see it’s all the same, nothing changes; wars keep happening because people are stupid and selfish. They want to be celebrated by everyone for everything they do. It’s tiresome. When you live as long as Geralt and I have lived, you stop believing there’s a remedy for some things. Everything you do is just to pass the time.”</p><p>That gave Jaskier a lot to process. It still made him a little sad to know she thought like that about her own existence.</p><p>“I can’t tell you that what you’re saying is completely wrong. But to live a life believing everything is so meaningless… That’s just sad. I’m not trying to judge here.” he sat down on the chair beside her. “You’re so powerful. You’re this great witch, don’t scowl at me, you’re this powerful being who could have anyone or anything you wanted at all times. You got the bravest witcher by your side - and gods only know how you two make it work, but it’s always so fucking clear in his face the dread when you leave.” Jaskier sighed and looked at his fidgeting fingers. “You got him wrapped around your fingers and toes and hair, and well…”</p><p>“I’d stop right there.”</p><p>“Fair.” he looked at her. “Truly. You make him happy - his face is just frozen with a tortured expression; and I was certain someone out there - here - would be that for him. He used to think like you, and I don’t believe he does anymore. You deserve that too.”</p><p>Yennefer looked at his big, blue eyes. It was a complete mystery to her how he thought everyone was so deserving of love despite what they had done before or how they had treated him. Yet here he was giving her a pep talk at no charge.</p><p>“You should be more honest with him, with yourself.” she didn’t elaborate, but Jaskier felt he was stripped naked under her eyes. “He’s not that hard to read; you said so yourself. You, on the other hand, learned to mask your feelings with frivolous jokes.”</p><p>“I… pfff.” the poet’s voice went higher a little. “Whatever do you mean?”</p><p>“Do you actually need me to say the words?” she questioned incredulously.</p><p>“No, please, don’t say the words.” Jaskier swallowed hard.</p><p>“Why are we having this conversation anyway? I mean, isn’t it strange for you…”</p><p>“Jaskier, I could have you any day. You’ve been wondering about that since I healed your throat.” her voice was threatening, but Jaskier wasn’t afraid in the least. If anything, he felt his body’s temperature rise a little. “But you’re annoying as fuck when you want, and I respect Geralt enough to let him have you first.”</p><p>“Firstly, I’m not a thing to be had, okay? Secondly, <em>if</em> Geralt had wanted, he would have shown it. Somehow. Between grunts.”</p><p>“Have you met the man? If it’s not something for his horse, he doesn’t decide anything.”</p><p>“Well, I have tried flirting before.” he said it playing with the hem of his shirt. “He just never made the move.”</p><p>“You flirt with <em>everyone</em>!” she accused.</p><p>“<em>Not</em> everyone!”</p><p>“Just the ones who interact with you.”</p><p>“I haven’t flirted with you.” he said it proudly.</p><p>“The hell you haven’t. First day we met you thought we’d had sex. And you had just woken up from the dead.” Yennefer stood up and put her things aside.</p><p>“That was ages ago, I was not fully conscious--”</p><p>“Exactly! And if you think I can’t smell the lust coming from you time and again, like right now, you’ve got another thing coming.”</p><p>Yennefer was towering him now. This honest hour was making him very confused, a little angry, definitely horny.</p><p>“You were saying… things. My body reacts. I don’t know how else to respond.” Jaskier tried to defend himself weakly.</p><p>“You’re so eloquent with your words and your songs, why don’t you try that with him for once? Directly.”</p><p>“Why don’t <em>you</em> try saying words to him, huh?” Jaskier’s heart was beating fast in his chest. Yeah, he went there. “You’re both so emotionally constipated you never dare to say the words, waiting for the other to go first.”</p><p>“We do talk. On occasion. We just don’t feel like we have to serenate each other every day.” she said it simply, Jaskier was about to answer back, but Yennefer held up a hand. “But we’re never shy about what we want. You go to bed thinking your balls will explode, sleep with nobodies never fulfilling what you truly want.”</p><p>Jaskier’s eyes looked hurt now. Yennefer stopped talking, sat down again, and grabbed one of his hands. She didn’t want to be the person to turn his bright world gray - the nudge in the right direction didn’t have to be painful.</p><p>“Stop torturing yourself.” she was almost pleading, a hand on his. “Don’t you get tired?”</p><p>He looked like it but didn’t say anything. His blue eyes found hers trying to understand why this now after so long. Yennefer wasn’t trying to be cruel, but it was obviously easier for her to project all she wasn’t able to give into someone who maybe could.</p><p>“It’s not that simple, Yen.” Jaskier scoffed. “What I feel… I mean, it’s so easy to fall, but to accept it as part of you indefinitely, that’s a whole other matter. Something that he doesn’t think he deserves - to have someone loving him.”</p><p>There was a long pause after that, both just looking at each other, finally showing some scars, sharing something unimaginable. The pill was hard for her to swallow too. It was a pain she had been caring for over a decade. But it didn’t cross her mind that giving was also painful; especially if one thought to be unrequited. Yennefer leaned forward, feeling the warmth of his skin, his breath on her face, and placed a soft kiss in the corner of his mouth, almost like a butterfly. She pulled away just enough to see he had closed his eyes, a very peaceful picture in contrast with the loud thunder in his chest.</p><p>“I’ll need to leave for some time, don’t know how long.” she explained. “Stay safe; don’t hurt yourself.”</p><p>“Where are you gonna go?” Jaskier wondered, his mouth a little dry.</p><p>“Things are not looking up in Aretuza. Tissaia and Triss need my help.” Yennefer was now up and going through her bag. “There’ll be endless meetings. I don’t think it’s a safe place anymore, not when there are mages against it.”</p><p>“But isn’t it protected by powerful magic or something?”</p><p>“Yes, but well, it won’t be protected for long if the majority decides to pimp it in exchange for more power.” she held up a bottle with a dark liquid inside.</p><p>“No way I’m drinking that.”</p><p>“This one is not for you.” Yennefer said back with her usual deadpan face. “I just need you to keep it. I might need it when I’m back.”</p><p>Jaskier felt like he had swallowed a cold stone but accepted the bottle and put it in a safe place with his things. A few minutes later, Jaskier resumed his writing and saw Yennefer going for the door saying she needed something from her friend in the city.</p><p>“Geralt will be pissed if you don’t come back before he arrives.” Jaskier said looking up from his paper.</p><p>“Fuck Geralt.” Yennefer replied without thinking, almost like an automatic response to conformity.</p><p>“I wish.” he mumbled lying down on the bed. When the words sunk in, he looked up to find a smile on her face. “I, uh, it just slips. I don’t have control over my mouth.”</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p>A couple of hours and a very long nap later, Jaskier woke up from his well-deserved nap to a darkening, empty room. After changing, he found Yennefer and Geralt downstairs talking to Fahler and a bunch of his family, or just some people who looked a lot like him. They chattered over each other excitedly and Yennefer politely nodded and answered some of the smaller child’s questions about magic without going too much into gory details. Geralt stood back observing and quickly spotted Jaskier’s figure going their way. He had his fishnet in hands and the floor beneath it was wet, but it didn’t seem worthy of attention, especially when there was a great savior witch telling her tales.</p><p>“Jaskier!” Fahler announced excitedly. “I see you’ve woken up. Lady Yennefer said you were resting; I hope you found our rooms comfortable.”</p><p>“Yes, it was. Thank you very much, Fahler.”</p><p>“I apologize for the small bed. We still don’t have a big enough room to fit two big beds.”</p><p>“He’s fine.” Geralt talked before Jaskier could, a teasing glow in his bright yellow eyes.</p><p>“All right. Well, please let me know if you need anything else.” Fahler said going behind the bar. “Now it’s time to organize what we need to bring to the festival. There are boxes in the back that need carrying.” he directed the order to his family.</p><p>They dispersed soon, and the three of them gathered closer.</p><p>“You’re leaving.” Jaskier stated looking at the bag on Yennefer’s shoulder.</p><p>“It’ll be better if I leave tonight.” she confirmed it.</p><p>“Oh.” he didn’t mean to sound so surprised.</p><p>They stared at each other for a second too long, enough for Geralt to notice. Yennefer didn’t usually say goodbye before disappearing, but, again, he never complained about it either. Jaskier couldn’t put a finger in what was different. The honest talk from earlier still lingered in his heart. Now he would be left alone to face Geralt with exposed truths displayed in his eyes.</p><p>“When will you be back?” Geralt wondered.</p><p>“Don’t know.” she said honestly. “I’ll find you two.”</p><p>She gave Jaskier a last mysterious look and left. They stared at her until there was no more lilacs and gooseberries to smell.</p><p>“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m not tired in the least.” he looked at the witcher, who still had the fishnet in his hand. “I’m thinking of going outside for a bit. Enjoy a party instead of working at one. What do you think?”</p><p>“Sure.” his tone was far from excited, but he accepted and wouldn’t dare to ask twice.</p><p>Geralt asked for Fahler and gave him the fish, thanking him for the hospitality. They would be leaving in the morning. <em>Are we?</em> I’ll explain later. But thank you again, here’s what we owe you. That’s more than enough, thank you… may I call you Geralt? Of course. A half smile, he’s grateful.</p><p>“The festival is starting outside. I might close things here now if you won’t be needing anything else.”</p><p>“That’s fine. We’ll find something to eat at the festival.” Geralt replied.</p><p>“Fahler, my dear Fahler, would you please ask someone to prepare him a bath first?” Jaskier held Geralt by his arm and begged the innkeeper with his dramatic eyes. “If he doesn’t bathe now, not only will he go to the festival stinking of fish, but I will have to endure this rotten smell for days until we find somewhere to stay.”</p><p>“Yes, yes, of course.” Fahler replied with a belly laugh and asked one of his daughters to prepare the bath. She was young and blushed at being noticed by the men but did as she was told.</p><p>---</p><p>Soon enough, Geralt was fresh and clean, complaining about his tight pants and walking towards the noise outside with Jaskier humming by his side. Rosy-cheeked people having fun, exchanging laughs and rushed words, dancing, drinking, there were children running. There was a huge fire lighting up the streets. It was very different from the balls in castles and even more different from the taverns they usually went to. They could feel some sort of lightness in the air. They filled up mugs with beer and found a spot in a corner, against a wood fence. It was so easy to forget about the monsters, the greedy world, the hurt people, the wars. </p><p>The simplicity of what made those townspeople happy and cheery gave Geralt a strange feeling. It was something so foreign to him that he almost felt uncomfortable. Like he couldn’t relax and just enjoy a festival - all hell would break loose if he did; a kikimora would turn up in a corner and eat half of the children, or a demon would take someone’s body and kill everyone. Jaskier noticed him staring and decided to break the silence.</p><p>“It’d be nice to live in a small town for a while.” he muses. “Not forever, but to grow some roots, to have a place to go back to from time to time. People who know you, expect you to visit, long for you.” he suddenly felt bashful. “I don’t know, maybe it would get boring. I wouldn’t mind staying a little longer, though.”</p><p>Geralt was now staring at him with an unreadable expression, but lips pursed, and brows creased.</p><p>“What is it?” Jaskier wanted to know.</p><p>“Nothing.” he drank and looked away. But it is something, <em>nothing</em> had stumbled from his lips too fast to be believable.</p><p>Jaskier looked around; there were people passing by where they were seated but they weren’t near enough that they would be heard. He remembered what Yennefer said about trying harder, showing more. His mouth went dry a little, but he reached out and rested a hand on the witcher’s knee.</p><p>“Geralt, tell me.” it was a whisper, but he knew it was enough. “I wanna know.” an unfair plead with a fast beating heart to go along. “We’ve been… We’ve been travelling together for so long.” an awkward laugh and a silent too long. “Why don’t you trust me?”</p><p>Geralt’s hard eyes were analyzing the poet’s sweet features, his expecting blue eyes.</p><p>“I can’t give you what you want.” he was careful with each word, but it doesn’t make them any easier to swallow.</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>A sigh.</p><p>“I can’t grow roots… anywhere. I don’t go back to Kaer Morhen that often, and I couldn’t come back here either.” Jaskier’s fast heartbeat was pounding in <em>his</em> ears. It didn’t keep him from continuing, though. “I can’t grow roots by the coast, and I can’t…”<br/>            “I know.” Jaskier interrupted. “I’m not asking you to. I just wondered.”</p><p>“You always do.” it wasn’t an accusatory tone, but a sad one. “From time to time you wonder. And I can’t keep you from wanting that. I can’t keep you from wanting roots, wanting someone more constant in your life. A quieter life, a family… I can’t give you that.” the words tasted bitter in his mouth, more than the beer in his hand. “I don’t think you realize that yet, that you might want all that.”</p><p>The poet was silent, he downed the rest of his drink and kept his eyes in the empty mug. Jaskier didn’t look offended but didn’t look pleased either. He licked his lips and got up.</p><p>“I’m going to get some more.” Jaskier explained. “Do you want more?”</p><p>“I’m fine.” Geralt replied, still trying to read his expression.</p><p>The witcher watched him go and talk easily with whoever he crossed paths with. A quick friend made on the way back and some stories shared later, Jaskier returned with the new mug of beer almost empty again.</p><p>“I’m tired. I think I’m going to bed.” he finished his beer. “This is some good beer.” tipsy enough.</p><p>---</p><p>Jaskier was already stripping down to his smallclothes, smashing his boots with his heels, and letting out a hiccup before he announced he would sleep in the big bed.</p><p>“Fuck no.” Geralt grunted, also stripping down.</p><p>“I will. That bed is for a child, Geralt.” he did have a point, but it wasn’t enough to convince the witcher, who just rolled his eyes. “Yennefer is not here. Don’t be selfish.”</p><p>Jaskier had finished stripping and was now with his hands on his hips.</p><p>“I don’t fit there.” Geralt said.</p><p>“I’m not… Gods, you’re dense.” Jaskier sighed. “I know you don’t fit there. No one does. I slept with my feet sticking out. There’s enough room here for the two of us.”</p><p>Geralt groaned but felt too tired to argue more; he lied down on one side of the bed with a hand covering his eyes. Jaskier took advantage of that moment to plop down beside him, a tipsy smile painting his lips. For what felt like a long time there was only their breathing breaking through the silence of the night in the room. Jaskier thought the witcher had already slept and turned on his side to look. Geralt felt the bed moving and uncovered his eyes to stare back.</p><p>“We’ll need to leave early tomorrow.” Geralt mentioned. “There’s a contract, a ‘demon’ of sorts.” he mocked.</p><p>He didn’t explain any further, Jaskier didn’t ask anything either. There were no comments nor smart comebacks, just a light nod. A thousand thoughts crossed Jaskier’s head, there was a lot he wanted to say, but felt too afraid to. He opened his mouth but closed again.</p><p>“Geralt” he tried finally.</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“Goodnight.” Jaskier breathed out tired.</p><p>“Goodnight.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It took a little longer than I expected, but mental health and all.<br/>Thank you for your feedback. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I absolutely love writing Yen and Jaskier's dialogues.</p><p>The next one is already planned out, so maybe leave some loving?</p><p>Twitter: @purplescool<br/>Tumblr: purpleplaidshirt</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Maybe I just wanna be yours</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There's wine and there's a cottage.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Due to recent events, it's been harder to write.<br/>Thankfully, I met dear sweet angel JeannyD123 who's been helping me with this (and much more than she can imagine). &lt;3</p><p>If you can, donate, sign petitions, fight against racism and violence, educate and be respectful, always.</p><p>This chapter was brought to you by wishful thinking that Geralt and Jaskier will, some day, realize they have feelings for each other.</p><p>*Smut alert* by the end of the chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They had been travelling for a couple of days now. The wind changing the farther they went - it was chillier, cold prickling their skin, and the trees looked drier than the ones on the way out of Hannu. It wasn’t necessary to have a witcher’s sense to feel there was something odd happening when they crossed into Redania, and it had nothing to do with the change of seasons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier had been a little more quiet than usual, focused on strumming a melody until it sounded right to his musician’s ears. Geralt wasn’t exactly an expert when it came to music to notice the differences in tunes, but he had picked on some of the knowledge from the poet to understand when a note struck better than the one before. The witcher had been observing Jaskier work tirelessly. Along the way, when they stopped to rest and the night got colder, Jaskier flexed his stiffened fingers and tried to warm his hands with the heat of the fire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One afternoon, they were seated near a river, trying to catch some fish, fishing rod stuck in the sand while they looked at the map in Geralt’s hand. They were not that far now. Something pulled Jaskier’s line and he quickly rushed to see what he had caught, only to be disappointed with the smallest fish he’d ever seen. He showed it to Geralt and put it away with a hopeless face. Jaskier looked at the murky water with hands on his hips and decided it was pointless - they had been at it for too long, he was tired and it was getting too cold again. So he sat on a tree log to light up the fire while Geralt kept trying his net a few more times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lute in hand, and the new melody lulled through the air in the leafless forest. Jaskier was still humming along when Geralt gave up the fish and joined him on the tree log. He noticed the witcher pulling on his necklace and looking around attentively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s magic, isn’t it?” Jaskier wondered, used to Geralt’s skeptical belief in demons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think so, yes.” the witcher replied while preparing the fish on a stick. They still had some bread and fruit, so the little fish they got would have to do until they reached the Marquis’s household. He smiled at Jaskier. “Took you long enough to ask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad I’m still able to surprise you after all this time.” he sounded cocky, but the teasing didn’t reach his blue eyes. Something was bothering him, but Geralt didn’t want to think it was because of their talk from some days ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt looked down with a concerned expression on his face. The fish they had caught had ice chips inside, even though it had caught Jaskier’s line. He tried to remember all those tales about cold, ice and monsters to fathom what he would be dealing with, but he snapped from his thoughts suddenly when the song stopped and Jaskier cursed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, shite!” he was looking at his fingers, one of them had busted open and was bleeding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt let go of the stick with the fish on the ground and caught his hand to have a look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, Geralt, the fish on the ground…” Jaskier complained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your finger--” he tried to reason.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just a cut. It happens, happened before millions of times.” he sounded cranky. “It’s this damn cold; it takes longer for my fingers to heal and callus properly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier got up and walked towards his bag, pulling out one of his healing herbs. After bandaging his fingers, he walked towards Roach, who was making noises, probably feeling the low temperature of the settling evening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know. You’re not a fan of the cold either, are you?” he caressed her with his good hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A moment later, the witcher walked up to them with two big blankets to wrap around his horse. Jaskier watched with curious eyes when Geralt turned on his heels without a word and walked back to where the rest of the improvised camp was settled. Jaskier fed Roach an apple and went to help Geralt place the bedrolls at a safe distance from the fire, but close enough they would be warm enough to sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about you?” he wondered about the blankets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t need it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be stupid. You think a sick witcher will help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t get sick.” he explained with a face and got an eye roll as response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, we can share.” Jaskier offered lightly. Geralt gave him a serious look. “Unless you find me that repelling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt didn’t reply and continued working the place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it to you?” Jaskier questioned, not being able to hold back his curiosity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re cranky.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I get cranky sometimes.” he muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s an understatement.” Jaskier said it under his breath. And then “I know how we can improve your mood.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt looked over his shoulder to see what the poet was talking about, almost certain he would have the lute in his hands despite his hurt fingers, but there was a full bottle of ale.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dearest Fahler! Ha!” he kissed the glass. “This will warm me up nicely, I’ll get a good night of sleep. You can join me if you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt didn’t reply at first and put more wood in the fire, watching from the corner of his eye Jaskier drinking directly from the bottle. He finally caved and sat next to him, extending a hand to take the bottle. Jaskier, then, proceeded with memories of the first monsters they met, and tried counting how many times they were captured together. Soon, the ale settled nicely in Geralt’s stomach and he looked more comfortable, more relaxed. Jaskier savored every easy laughter that escaped the witcher, letting it warm his heart and body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I met this woman once; I don’t think I ever told you about this.” Geralt started, holding back a laugh. “Also a bard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you… Are you serious right now?” he was shocked. “Why are you only telling me this now? Ger--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter.” Geralt drank again. “She--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It does matter!” Jaskier insisted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to hear the story?” he questioned with a brow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well…” Jaskier pressed when the witcher didn’t continue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We used to meet sometimes. I had never seen her play, though. The first time we met, she had just finished her act. The other times… I don’t know. We didn’t usually meet at the places where she played.” another good sip, greedy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was she beautiful?” Jaskier wanted to know and demanded the bottle back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, she was.” he replied honestly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then, what happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got married.” he shrugged. “Three children.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, well.” the bottle was half empty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The last time I saw her, I heard her play for the first time.” he explained. “Her voice was nice, but she didn’t play well. Not like…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like… Oh! Like </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>! I get it. Oh, I get. it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t get a big head.” Geralt warned with a crooked smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did she ever write you a song?” Jaskier wondered after a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think so, no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Jaskier suppressed a yawn, Geralt told him to sleep - he would stay up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, don’t stay up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt was ready to tell him not to worry. Maybe it was all the ale they had, or the talk about past adventures and lovers. For the second time, Geralt caved and joined Jaskier. At some point during the night, Jaskier had molded himself against Geralt, breathing in the crook of his neck. For the witcher’s surprise, it felt far more comfortable and natural than he had expected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He woke up the next morning with his arm around the bard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They didn’t talk about how Jaskier had even drooled a little, or how warm he felt. Instead, they continued their way to the next town with the poet humming yet a new tune.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they entered Redania, the witcher’s necklace was trembling lightly against his skin. There were less people walking around than he expected to see. The few passersby looked scared and rushed from one point to another. The little sunlight was nowhere to be seen now. It felt creepy, scary. Jaskier felt the hair on the back of his neck standing up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dear Melitele, this town is going to give us a good story, isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hopefully a quick one.” Geralt replied, slowing Roach down when they arrived at the gates of a big mansion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was not exactly a castle, but the house was tall and looked fancy. There were even guards who promptly positioned themselves blocking the entrance when Geralt got off the horse. Without hesitating, Geralt approached.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Geralt.” he mumbled the only way he knew. “Geralt of Rivia. I believe the Marquis de Mercey is looking for someone to fight a </span>
  <em>
    <span>demon</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite saying the word “demon” with disdain, the fear in the guard’s eyes didn’t pass unnoticed. They stepped apart and opened the gate for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Watch the horse.” he commanded; the guards only nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier adjusted his bag across his torso and followed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s with me.” Geralt explained without looking back when the guards tried to block the way again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were welcomed by another servant who asked them to wait in what seemed like a long living room. It was all adorned with expensive looking objects; animal heads on the wall, fine tapestries and golden candle holders. Not long after that, an old man dressing accordingly walked in; his eyes were a little wild, his hands fidgety. If it were not for his graying mustache, Jaskier was certain they would be able to see his lips trembling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“White hair, yellow eyes… You must be the famous witcher of Rivia.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Geralt.” he confirmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, take a seat.” the man gestured to the chairs by the wooden table. If he noticed Jaskier, he didn’t mention - too preoccupied with the task in hands. “Do you want something to drink?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have wine?” they said at the same time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mercey finally broke his scared expression and turned into a slightly amused one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Brigitte, please, bring the grape wine from the north.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mercey was the minister of finances of Redania, he had recently found out that his wife, Marie, was having an affair with the head of Redania Intelligence. Too afraid and too old to confront the other man, he hired a sorcerer to scare him off. He was afraid to lose his credibility with the important people and his post because of the shame. The minister was aware of his old age; maybe he wasn’t what his wife wanted him to be at times…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you know what I mean.” he blushed. “The bastard was daring to come </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span> after my wife, in my own house. I’d had enough of that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what did the sorcerer do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I thought that if I showed her I still had my virility; be that fighting a monster or defending her of a creep horseshit like him…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That she would end the affair.” Jaskier completed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly.” he confirmed it. “I knew everything would be magic, so it would be easy to disperse. I wouldn’t have to be afraid because we had it all planned out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what happened?” Geralt pressed, annoyed with all the rambling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The whole town is cold in the middle of what was supposed to be a hot season. We have these, these trembling, tremors from time to time.” as Mercey explained, his voice got more and more desperate. “No one wants to leave their houses anymore. I tried following the trembles with my guards, listening to the demon’s sounds and, gods, there’s a thick fog covering everything. Then we see this huge demon with red eyes and made-made of ice. It’s terrifying!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And where’s the sorcerer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know! He got his coins and left. He said it would be easy…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” Geralt scoffed and gave Jaskier, who was enjoying his wine very much, a knowing look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least it never got too close to town, but the noises and the tremors are enough to have people locked in their houses.” he complemented.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mercey begged for discretion, which Geralt only acknowledged with an annoyed look. He didn’t want to be the talk of the town; being a cuckold publicly was enough of a burden to carry. The minister couldn’t let people know his vengeance had gone wrong - he needed respect. A man of finances couldn’t have his name dragged into the mud. He was supposed to be the brave man who saved the city and got his wife back. Jaskier wasn’t able to finish his drink, Geralt was already up and leaving after accepting the minister’s offer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what I don’t understand?” Jaskier asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t he just ask for one of those smoke potions Yennefer gives some men from time to time?” he was referring to the lust potion. “I bet that’s all she needed, a nice, sexy poun…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t go there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt had entered his hunting zone - swords in place; horse, mounted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bard, stay.” but he was already on the horse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The witcher groaned but didn’t argue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While Geralt felt they were nearing the danger through his witcher instincts and the vibration of his necklace, Jaskier felt it by the climate; he was shivering and his nails looked almost purple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you think it is?” the poet asked through his teeth, trying hard not to let them chatter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know what it is.” they had reached a point where there were only shadows of trees and thick fog. “It’s an ice elemental. Basically a big, dumb block of ice. It doesn’t have any consciousness and it’s created for one purpose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which is… to kill.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, kill.” he sounded annoyed. “They’re not a hard kill, but it doesn’t die easily. It’s completely invulnerable to poison and fire, it doesn’t have any sensitive organs…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how does it die?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to find a way to blow it up with a bomb. And try not to blow myself up in the process.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uff…” Jaskier was dumbfounded. “But why would a sorcerer do that?” Jaskier asked, confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m assuming the sorcerer got a counter offer from the lover, got both payments and ran away as fast as he could.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Roach started to fuzz, Geralt got off and asked Jaskier to stay with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t follow me there.” less of an order, Jaskier recognized plea and concern in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt went off towards and through the fog, and what looked like a huge, shiny mountain became slightly visible. The poet decided to sit down, behind a tree, occasionally allowing his curiosity to take a look. It didn’t seem natural. When Geralt was distant enough to look like a small silhouette, Jaskier got a better look of the crystal clear pile of ice. The witcher’s steps were as careful as a wolf hunting, Jaskier scoffed at his own comparison. Maybe he would go around the beast and try to attack it from behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A thunder like sound resonated through the air and within the trees; probably felt the witcher approaching. Jaskier recoiled and started making plans B, C and D that included, somehow, escaping without a scratch after making sure Geralt was to survive that huge block of ice. The scarce seconds of silence worried Jaskier. Slowly, he turned his head again to try to get a glimpse of what was happening. He could barely make Geralt’s shadow now, skillfully circling the monster, at an unnatural speed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tremors started on the ground much like a calvary approaching in times of war. Jaskier saw little rocks jumping and leaves floating. When he turned his eyes again to the action, the monster had stood up, clenched fists hammering the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sweet Melitele’s…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt was now only a blot of dark clothing trying to escape from the monster’s greedy hands. It launched forward in the witcher’s direction, booming with its unnatural voice. Geralt, in turn, swirled in a different direction, tricking the beast’s reflections. It was huge, therefore, slower than the witcher. The ice monster pounded the ground with both fists. The earth cracked and opened a rupture under them. Geralt tried to run, but the monster grabbed him by the waist. He saw Geralt make a sign and the ground collapsed with both of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier gasped out loud and felt his legs go weak. Without realizing, he got up and walked slowly towards the hole. It was still cold, but his neck was getting hot. He only noticed he was too close when he saw Geralt still trapped in the monster’s arms. The witcher quickly freed one of his arms and made a sign, which lifted a haze of dust and leaves. Jaskier covered his eyes with his hand and coughed from all the dirt it had lifted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could debate whether to stay or to run, he uncovered his eyes and saw Geralt climbing out; eyes black, skin even more pale than usual, those wild, dark veins around his eyes. His instincts alerted him of danger, but he couldn’t stop staring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get back!” Geralt screamed and turned around to throw the bomb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier didn’t need to be told twice. He ran as fast as he could; still Geralt caught up to him and collapsed them on the ground, protecting the poet’s head with his arm. A loud explosion erupted; Jaskier’s ears started to ring, his head a little dizzy, disoriented. Carefully, Geralt stood up and looked behind them. The ice monster had deteriorated, and its remaining particles were floating in the air like particles of crystal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was almost like people told in fairy tales - the thick clouds were dispersing, the sun was finally breaking through; the fine layer of ice on the ground was slowly melting. Jaskier looked around with his mouth gaping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, this is surreal.” he sounded like an enchanted child.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beside him, the veins in Geralt’s face were diminishing, his eyes gradually going back to its normal yellow color.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it gone? The monster…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. It’s gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All that had happened before rushed back into Jaskier’s brain; the thunders, Geralt imprisoned between ice blocks of arms; the tremors, the hole in the ground - which was pretty much still there, despite the fact that the monster was gone. The poet turned to him and punched him in the arm; it didn’t make the witcher move an inch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck was that hole in the ground? I thought you had been swallowed with it.” he asked, angry. The witcher shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The crater made it safer for me to throw the bomb.” Geralt started dusting off the dirt from his hands and arms the best he could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if you hadn’t come out on time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on.” he offered Jaskier a hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, wait.” he accepted the hand and got up. “I want to see nature going back to normal; like birds singing, trees getting full again, fresh fruit...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt laughed at his naivety, amused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not going to happen here. The ice is melting because the clouds are dissipating and the sun is where it should be, but there’s only so much nature can undo when it comes to magic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, one can hope.” he sounded disappointed. “Was it all magic, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” he confirmed it and analyzed Jaskier’s clothes. “Are you hurt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no. I’m fine.” he answered, feeling his arms and torso; all intact. “You crushed me on the ground, but I can handle your weight on top of me just fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A laugh and a look. One could only wish.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they arrived back, everything looked different. People were walking outside skeptically staring at the sun in the sky. It no longer seemed like a ghost town. Some still gave Geralt the stink eye, but most were too busy trying to understand the sudden change of weather. They crossed the gates of the mansion without much trouble, but the witcher quickly contorted his face, annoyed. Before Jaskier could ask, he heard something breaking, like glass shattering. As they approached the door, a guard stepped in front of them, looking a bit embarrassed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think the Marquis wouldn’t like to be interrupted right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here for the payment.” Geralt clarified, not really stopping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You are unbelievable!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” another glass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh...” Jaskier understood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice had come from the inside of the house, a very angry woman's voice. Geralt rolled his eyes, passed through the guard and pushed the half-opened door. The owner of the voice didn’t give two shits about who was getting in or out, nor those who could hear a mile away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do not yell at me, Marie.” Mercey sounded just as unconvincing as he looked terrified. “Geralt!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, I tried to warn him but--” the guard had caught up with them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not leaving without my payment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A witcher?” the woman shrieked. “Can’t you just handle things normally?” and another glass vase went flying across the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop throwing things at me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you hire another abnormal creature to try to find your brain and your </span>
  <em>
    <span>balls</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He came here to help, Marie!” their faces matched in angry colors. The minister had a vein pulsating on his forehead. “Look outside! It’s bright again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything smelled like shame and exasperation. Geralt sighed heavily waiting for the dramatic scene to be over. Marie turned around to look through the window and her wild eyes seemed to soften a little, her breathing slowing. The minister took that opportunity to grab the bag of coins from a box and walked over to Geralt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you so much, Geralt of Rivia.” he was sweating desperation, something that even Jaskier could feel. “I asked Brigitte to prepare a little cottage we have up the hill from here. There’s fresh bread, fruits and I can ask them to bring some soup and ale later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> stupid!” Marie started again, now laughing maniacally. “Ha! You really thought you’d do all this theatrics, and what? Get the title of hero of the town? You’re so pathetic!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just let me pay the man, Marie!” he looked at the guard. “Jon, please, show them where the cottage is, if they wish to stay the night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you happen to have some that delicious wine too?” Jaskier made his presence known.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, sure. Of course.” but the minister was barely paying attention, looking over his shoulder to watch what else would his lovely wife throw his way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go.” Geralt turned on his heels with the bag to leave. When he didn’t listen to the poet’s steps following behind, he called again: “Come, Jaskier.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cottage was about fifteen minutes up the hill. It didn’t seem so little, but looked more humble than the mansion the minister and his wife lived. There was a small space for Roach to rest right beside it with big piles of hay, water and fruit. Vines covered the sides of the cottage, making it look charming and cozy, but also discreet among the green forest. Inside, all wood and stone. There were two large beds, one across from the other; never used candles on each nightstand; a fireplace and what looked like a comfortable rug; and a table with the baked goods and fruit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier quickly put his things on a bed, took off his shoes and the bandages off his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They look better?” Geralt wondered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, look!” Jaskier held up his fingers. They looked wrinkly and pale, but the cut had sealed nicely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt hummed in approval and turned around to take off his boots and armours. Jaskier sat down and watched the witcher gracefully strip down to more comfortable clothes. All his movements looked choreographed; even a simple gesture such as opening his doblets or tossing aside his shirt. Geralt was tying his hair back when he felt the poet’s intense stare. Getting caught brought some heat to his face, but Jaskier didn’t avert his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think Mercey has somewhere else to sleep if the wife decides to kick him out?” Jaskier asked to distract the witcher from his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt didn’t help much, just snorted. He sat down on the other bed and looked at Jaskier, analyzing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’d be pretty pissed too if someone hired a monster to keep me locked up just so I don’t see other people.” the poet continued, feeling a little awkward with the focused attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you wouldn’t get married?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’ve thought about it.” he answered like he was pondering again. “I just don’t think I’d be happy staying in one place for the rest of my life. I don’t think I’d make them happy either.” Jaskier explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt hummed in response and kept staring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Plus,” he felt compelled to add. “How is a bard going to find a story to tell locked up?” he rolled his eyes. “I mean… There’s so much to see out there, so many people to meet. I think there are some wonderful stories waiting to be told and I’d like a chance to hear them. Some people are shit, I know. But there are some people that are fascinating.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you fall in love too easily, I know.” Geralt completed remembering a conversation from another day. Jaskier had no response to that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When do you think Yennefer will be back?” escaped from Jaskier’s lips before he could stop himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>First, Geralt was taken aback, then his features softened and a wicked smile started at the corner of his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why? You miss her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t say that.” he shot back too quickly. “But she gave me this bottle with some kind of dark blue goo, said she might need it.” he was trying to find it in his bag. “I don’t know. Just thought it was strange she trusted </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is it?” Geralt was serious again, walked over to Jaskier’s bed and grabbed the bottle from his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The witcher looked at it but didn’t seem to recognize. It smelled strong and acrid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She probably had her reasons.” he didn’t seem fazed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Moments later, there was a knock on the door - two people from town brought in some rich soup and the good bottle of wine. Jaskier’s stomach growled loudly at the smell - he didn’t realize he was so hungry, but they had barely eaten all day. Geralt lit the fireplace, and they made their way to the tapestry to eat near the fireplace. Maybe they were used to being on the floor, maybe they just wanted to feel close like the day before. Jaskier recounted the happenings from earlier from his own perspective - much more colorful and dramatic than what had truly happened. They were laughing easily while Jaskier tried to reproduce Marie’s and Mercey’s voice. Jaskier was purple lipped and hooded eyed - he almost didn’t notice how intensely Geralt was staring at him the whole time. Jaskier was caught by surprise by a yawn escaping him loudly. Wine made him light and dizzy, good buzz, but sleepy buzz nonetheless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wine makes you speak funny.” Geralt announced sounding funny himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wine makes you soft.” he replied back with a clumsy wink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I might go to bed.” he announced and got up. “Hope my fingers wake up healed enough so I can play again.” he looked down at his fingers, not really seeing anything in the dark, but with a pout of self pity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier looked at the beds, hands on the hips. He remembered the bedroll, and how cozy it felt, the warmth of his body, but he knew it had only been a once in a lifetime offer. He laid down on the bed before he did something silly and stared  at the ceiling. He was warm, very warm, but not enough. Not the right kind of warm. He didn’t want to think too much anymore, so he closed his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t hear the witcher approaching minutes later, but he was startled by the bed moving. Geralt pushed his shoulder back down and shushed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sleep.” his voice so deep, Jaskier felt it vibrate in his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier sighed and obeyed. They were on their side, face to face, not touching but close enough. Space wasn’t the issue there, the closeness was premeditated. Jaskier tried controlling his breathing by squeezing his eyes shut a little bit harder. Next, he felt a tentative hand graze his cheek, fingers brushing his neck, then palm sliding down his back. The hand traced its way up and down several times, waking up the poet’s body despite the previous request to sleep. When it was clear the way Jaskier responded to his demanding hand, Geralt pulled his body closer until their foreheads were touching. If Jaskier moved his head a little higher, their lips would touch and everything would change.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t be reading this wrong, though. Forget the wine, the bedrolls, the cuddling, the intense stares. Geralt had gotten up and laid on </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> bed. Jaskier leaned his body forward; this proximity felt so good, but it did not feel like it was enough. All those years of wanting from afar, watching him, treating and caring. They were close, all he could breathe was Geralt. Jaskier didn’t stop himself this time, he reached for Geralt’s bare arm,the muscles responding to his light touch, not used to such a gentle touch. The witcher let out a long sigh of approval. It felt so good to be able to touch him like this, but so cruel to refrain himself from ripping off his clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier’s insecure thoughts were cut off when his body was pulled until their bodies were flushed together. Geralt’s want was made known, just as much as his own. It was too much. Yennefer’s words had been echoing in his head for days. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> torture to see him, be next to him, to want someone so much. They hadn’t even done anything and Jaskier was so painfully hard he felt like he would combust. Geralt’s hand was lowering dangerously, his breathing was heavier, sending shivers erupt all over his body. When he felt the witcher’s fingers play with the waistband of his pants, all restraint was thrown out of the window. Jaskier lifted his head, crushing their lips together forcefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t a sweet kiss; it was hungry, a little desperate. There was no time to process anything; Geralt’s hand was already cupping the back of Jaskier’s head, guiding him and responding with tongue and moans, matching hunger and want. Jaskier hitched up a leg across Geralt’s waist, rolling them over so he was on top. The witcher’s stub was scratching and burning his face, but it didn’t stop Jaskier from kissing down his jaw, scraping teeth against his neck and behind his ear. Geralt responded by thrusting up his hips against Jaskier’s; the much needed friction Jaskier had been seeking, who moaned loudly for the first time, eyes rolling back, unashamed, surrendered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The poet started rolling his hips, noticing how nicely his body fit to the witcher’s. His heart was pounding and his breathing heavy from panting. He reached down to the hem of Geralt’s blouse to make him take it off, stripping himself off his as well. They had seen each other shirtless and even naked countless times, but never like this, never so affected by the other, never so responsive and hot. Jaskier leaned in for another hungry kiss, letting his hand travel, feeling hot skin, scars and hair; everything that composed the great witcher who had stolen his heart one day many, many years ago. And he can’t stop kissing, tasting his lips. It’s addictive and everything he ever thought would feel to kiss him, overwhelming and marvelous, like he could never stop and should stop just so he could write about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt grabbed the back of his thigh and with one swift move, they were flipped, the poet trapped under his weight. Jaskier’s heart was beating so fast, it sounded like the wings of a butterfly fluttering in the witcher’s ears. He could smell how excited he was, his pupils dilated, his cock greedy, seeking friction even though he could barely move. Geralt took his time trailing kisses down on his neck and chest; his fingers carefully playing with, what he learned to be, sensitive nipples. Each moan vibrating in his ears, his blood rushing between his legs. A languid trust to relieve some of the tension that got both panting. His fingers found the waistband of the poet’s pants to lower enough to free him - ready, swollen, begging.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier’s hand skillfully snaked down between them to palm Geralt’s cock, pants still on the way. His thoughts were incoherent with a much distracting tongue lavishing its way down his torso; goosebumps erupting on his skin. Geralt had set him free, but he was still untouched where he needed most. It was like the witcher had all the time in the world and in no rush to give Jaskier what he craved the most. He needed to feel him completely and everywhere; to have him and to be taken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt grabbed Jaskier in his hand, warm, so warm, and started stroking him up and down slowly, watching attentively the precum cover the swollen head. Jaskier threw his head back, exposing his elegant neck, vein popping - completely surrendered. A low hum in his chest and a twitch in his pants were enough to send him up to get rid of his own pants, startling the out of breath bard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing him take off his pants, gave Jaskier the cue to finish taking his off. This was really happening, finally. The tie in Geralt’s hair had fallen and his hair was all over the place. The warm color of the fireplace illuminating just the most sinful scene in front of him: Geralt completely naked, hard with want, staring at him with wild eyes. Jaskier got on his knees on the bed and pulled the witcher down for another kiss; a slower one now, just as full of want, but pulling his lower lip between his teeth. He had a mission now. It was Jaskier’s turn to grab Geralt in his hand; feel how hard he was for him, watch his lips part while he stroked him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt stepped back, almost regretting, and walked over to his things. Deep down, Jaskier knew what he was going to get, but his heart fluttered anyway. The witcher went back with a tiny bottle of oil, still closed. Jaskier laid back and licked his lips, taking in that scene of Geralt crawling on top of him. The witcher placed a soft kiss on the poet’s lips and kept their foreheads touching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only if you want to.” the words travelled all the way down to his begging cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah,” he confirmed, kissing him lightly again. “I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt sat back on his legs and opened the bottle still staring at Jaskier, trying to listen or notice any kind of resistance, but there was nothing to find. He could smell want and excitement, but nothing else. The witcher spread his legs and positioned himself on top of Jaskier again. He found the poet’s cock, stroking now with ease, sliding up and down the light scented oil. Geralt watched him get lost in sensation again, almost giving up the idea of taking him, his own cock twitching, demanding attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier felt Geralt stop and watched him preparing his fingers, anticipating his next move. He opened his legs a little further and started stroking himself, making the witcher watch for a while. When he felt the known warmth in his belly, he stopped. There was too much to happen yet. Geralt got closer, his cock on display, but it was the tip of his finger that Jaskier felt first; teasing, rubbing oil, lightly pushing, meeting a little of resistance. With his other hand, Geralt caressed Jaskier’s thigh. He breathed out and relaxed against his finger, making it easier to slip halfway inside. The witcher pulled his finger all the way out, receiving a complaining moan in response. Another coat of oil and his finger went in again, all the way this time. Jaskier gasped and swore, but more precum leaked to reassure Geralt. The witcher kept this until there was only moan and desperation to cum echoing in his ears. Soon, a second finger joined; slowly at first, and then all at once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier was raving with want, moaning out loud. He couldn’t keep this up for much longer. He started stroking himself, seeking relief. His skin was so hot; the feeling of Geralt’s fingers sliding in and out, hitting where it should, he needed to let go. He panted, speeding up his moves until he came undone all over his belly; shuddering, moaning, his whole body covered in goosebumps. Behind his eyes, he was seeing stars, his ears were popping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt slipped out his fingers carefully, watching Jaskier whimper, his eyes still closed. The witcher got up and brought back a piece of cloth. The poet had opened his eyes and was staring at his still very hard cock. He spread his legs apart again, but Geralt shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll be too sensitive.” he explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Jaskier protested. “I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt then proceeded to damp the cloth with water and cleaned the poet. Jaskier took this opportunity to pull him until they kissed again and again. Until they were both out of breath and Geralt moaned and twitched between their bodies. It was Jaskier’s turn to get the bottle and reach down to get the witcher’s cock in his hand, stroking him lazily. Geralt let go of his lips to let out a throaty moan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me.” Jaskier asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so the witcher allowed him. He laid back on the bed to be at his mercy; completely exposed and unashamed of his want. Jaskier read him, every clench of jaw, every long sigh; Geralt grabbed his other hand guiding to his balls, playing with them lightly, making his eyes roll back in ecstasy. It was a sight that would be burned in Jaskier’s brain for the rest of his life. He imagined himself riding Geralt, with hands on his athletic chest; he fantasised of cumming on </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> chest, of sucking him dry, of spreading and taking him. With every thought, Jaskier sped up a little and the witcher thrusted back in his hand, his breathing speeding up. Geralt opened his eyes and propped on his elbows before he shuddered and came all over the poet’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier was gaping from witnessing such a scene. His half hard cock was proof he would cherish this memory forever. Geralt got the piece of cloth again and cleaned himself. He looked up again when he felt Jaskier’s stare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know if I can.” Jaskier replied honestly, still trying to process all that had just happened. Was he supposed to be happy? Would this change everything?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt mentioned the bed, already preparing himself to sleep. Jaskier felt tired suddenly. Maybe they would be able to talk in the morning. Not leaving the bed seemed like a good sign. It would be a problem for tomorrow. The poet complied and nestled himself against Geralt, falling fast asleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was not morning yet, there was a faint voice echoing; like it was being carried through the breeze of a chilly morning. Jaskier blinked, the room was still bathed in blue, the fireplace was out, Geralt still soundly asleep. He tried closing his eyes again, but the voice persisted. He couldn’t make out what it was saying, but something in his chest tightened. The poet got up, stirring the sleeping witcher awake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>are not listening…” Jaskier trailed off, finding his pants. “I don’t know what is it or what is saying, but I don’t have a good feeling about this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt found his clothes and drank water from his canteen. Something felt off. The witcher heard steps, more than one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are people coming.” he reached for one of his swords.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, a knock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay back.” Geralted warned and walked to the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there a Jaskier here?” a guard, slightly frightened by the smell, but his voice was firm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s asking?” the witcher demanded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a mage. She’s calling his name… She’s down back at the city, I don’t think she’s well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yennefer.” Jaskier’s heart stopped.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you enjoyed it! I plan on wrapping this one with two more chapters.<br/>I was also thinking of writing a OS of Yennefer at Aretuza. What do you think? Any Yen/Triss readers (also accepting fic recs)?</p><p>I'm on twitter: @purplescool<br/>Also on Tumblr: purpleplaidshirt.tumblr.com<br/>And I created an IG, I've been posting moodboards for the chapters: @lilacscool (yeah, purple was taken)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Brave face talk so lightly, hide the truth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“How was it?” she wondered suddenly.</p><p>“How was it what?” he asked, distracted.</p><p>“If I didn’t have other senses, I’d think it’s Geralt braiding my hair, not you.” Yennefer wouldn’t make this one easy for him. “This bed was untouched; the whole room smells of both of you. And I’m not talking about the fact that you haven’t showered.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>(maybe) tw: There's description of wounds here.<br/>Also a little bit of angst. And slow burn.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They went to the village as fast as they could. The sun had not risen yet, but there was an unnatural luminosity shining ahead; like it was guiding them to where they needed to be. There weren’t many people awake, aside from innkeepers on their way to get milk and essentials for breakfast, and the guards. Jaskier didn’t know if he felt more Roach’s thumping against the ground or his own heart pounding in his chest. He was carrying the bottle in his hand with all his might, afraid he might let it drop. When they arrived, there were a few people in a circle. Geralt wouldn’t stop swearing under his breath, no doubt just as worried as the bard, who felt incredibly responsible for the mage’s wellbeing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instantly, people opened way so the newcomers could see her on the ground. Her hands were luminous with magic, but she looked weak, barely conscious. Blood stained her dress and her lips. Her violet eyes were barely open, but she managed to find them among the crowd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get out.” Geralt’s voice boomed like a thunder and people quickly scattered away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier wasn’t much behind about demanding space for her to breathe, but his hands were shaky and there was a lump in his throat at the sight of the great Yennefer looking so hurt and defeated. Now that they could get a clear view, they noticed dead birds and moths around her. No doubt due to her magic, which occasionally needed to take something in order to work in her favor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” Jaskier choked out a question, but didn’t wait for an answer. “I brought the bottle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not here.” that was all she had the strength to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you carry her?” Geralt was looking at Jaskier. He nodded and put the bottle in his pocket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt had lowered himself to pick up Yennefer in his arms, his face was contorted in pain. Jaskier got on Roach and opened space to nestle her against his body securely, noticing her hands were no longer luminous. That way, he had a better look at her. There was makeup smudged on her face, mixed with blood and dirt. Yennefer looked small in his arms; a violent contrast to what she portrayed most of the time: the great witch, omnipresent, powerful. Jaskier’s stomach was in knots the whole way back. Geralt was leading Roach carefully, watching out for rocks and holes so the horse didn’t stumble and disturbed the people on the saddle. He noticed Jaskier’s arms securing her tightly, a grave expression worrying between the poet’s eyebrows and tightened lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The witcher was already making plans to go back to the minister and ask to stay for a few more days - just enough time they could guarantee Yennefer was okay enough to leave without risking her life. He carried her inside like she was the most frail being he had ever encountered; knowing full well she was everything but. The witcher put her on the unused bed, against the pillows. Jaskier was already grabbing water and tearing an old shirt to use as cloth, trying not to remember the piece of rag they used the night before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to talk to the minister about us staying here for a few days.” Geralt announced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier acknowledged with a nod but wouldn’t tear his sight from Yennefer. She opened her eyes slowly but didn’t say anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you need? Any herbs? Any specific potions?” Geralt insisted already by the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although he tried to stay steady, his voice had just the hint of desperation. Yennefer started unlacing the front of her dark dress and, for the first time, they saw that there was still blood gushing through the fabric. But it wasn’t just blood; it looked like there was a sparkling liquid mixed in it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need stitches.” Jaskier whispered, she nodded and stopped trying to undress, too weak to continue. Something inside of Geralt burned with outrage. He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled heavily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will be right back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier had sat down beside her, not really knowing what to do. He couldn’t ask anything and risk her getting even weaker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want that potion now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded in response and tried leaning forward, but winced in pain and rested back against the pillows again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll help.” He brought the now opened bottle to her parted lips. She had barely taken a sip before she stopped him with a hand on his wrist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t…” she was struggling, which pained him to see. “I can’t take it all at once.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is this, Yen? How did you know you’d need this?” he asked trying to understand, the acrid smell burning his nostrils. “It smells rotten.” he made a face and her lips arched in a weak smile. Jaskier put the bottle aside and looked back at her half unlaced corset. “Should I, should we see the wound?” hand on hips; voice wavering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yennefer lifted her hand and rested where the blood kept gushing. It was right under her left breast, maybe that was why she couldn’t lean forward - Jaskier thought. He rolled up his sleeves and sat back down, tentative fingers started undoing the rest of the lace. She grabbed one of his hands and caressed the bandaged fingers, now all bloodied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“String cuts.” he explained, dismissing her worries by shaking his head. “May I…” he asked, mentioning the corset. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me just because I’m trying to be polite.” he warned and she closed her eyes, waiting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her breathing was shaky as he opened her dress all the way down to her waist. The fabric had stuck a little where the blood had dried up and she winced when he tried to pull. Noticing her reaction, he grabbed the piece of cloth from the old shirt and dampened it with the little water left in the bottle - wetting the wound would help retrieving the fabric without peeling her sensitive skin. There was a clear sword or knife wound open and  blood still leaked from it. Jaskier promptly put pressure on it with the dampened cloth with one hand and, with the other, he tried cleaning her stomach the best he could. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, trying to ignore her hisses and moans of pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need--” she struggled. “I need you to pinch the skin together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at her a little worried he would fuck it all up, but did as she asked. She grunted in pain, fist clenched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is Geralt?” he mumbled to himself and tried to focus on the task in hand. “Weren’t you supposed to heal like Geralt? Super fast?” he wondered, puzzled and scared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, bard.” she gritted through her teeth, the pain speaking louder now, there were tears trickling down her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just trying to understand here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was poisoned.” she explained when her breath was a little steadier. “It’ll heal with…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With the potion. Alright, I got it.” he finished so she didn’t have to speak anymore. “I got you, I got you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier had witnessed Geralt healing more times than not. But he had also seen what poison did to him. Without the right healing potions and care, none of the magic or fast healing would help. He started counting time by the songs he played in his head. At some point, Yennefer had stopped struggling and squirming. He still had lots of questions, but knew he couldn’t satiate his curiosity at that moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t stop.” she whispered suddenly. Jaskier looked at her, but her eyes were still closed. “Keep humming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heat warmed his neck and face; he hadn’t noticed that the songs had been slipping out in hums. The poet didn’t miss a beat and started over. The wound had stopped bleeding through his fingers, but it was still very open; the strange color still apparent. He was afraid to let go. A moment later, Geralt stepped inside with a full bag thrown over his shoulder and a bucket of water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, finally.” Jaskier let out a shaky breath, relieved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is she?” the witcher asked, seeing her top open, the cloth red with blood next to her body and Jaskier pinching her wounded skin. There was something else laced with the scent of blood, but he couldn’t pinpoint what kind of poison it was exactly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She needs stitches.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The wound is poisoned, she needs…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I took a potion for the poison.” Yennefer opened her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it enough?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The wound won’t close or heal until…” she winced when trying to move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about stitching her up first, interrogating later?” Jaskier offered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt nodded and took the bag from his shoulder. There were enough supplies to stitch an army. They worked together. While Geralt worked the needle, Jaskier poured alcohol, cleaned and pinched. Yennefer tried hard not to scream; but her body was sweating and shaking involuntarily the whole time. When they finished, she asked for the bottle again. She gulped a bigger amount, contorted her face at the taste. She looked tired. Jaskier wrapped a large fabric around her torso, carefully not to make it too tight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should rest.” Geralt suggested, his jaw clenching right after. Yennefer still managed to arch an eyebrow at his obvietivity, but felt too spent to argue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier and Geralt walked outside so they didn’t disturb Yennefer’s rest, even though she could probably still hear them. The sun was high in the sky and reflected on the poet’s clear eyes. It was the first time they could actually relax a little after that morning’s surprise wake up call. There were many unanswered questions, but Jaskier knew this wasn’t the time to unpack anything. Instead, he longed for a bath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you speak with the minister?” Jaskier wondered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did.” he replied, obviously not done with the explanation. “He doesn’t care how long we stay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier turned his head towards the witcher, examining his hardened expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His wife, on the other hand.” the witcher let out an annoyed grunt. “Throwing fists, yelling that Yen was bringing death to the town, that now everyone was cursed.” he shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, to be fair,” Jaskier started. “I, too, would find a little bit weird to have a mage exploding in the middle of the town surrounded by dead birds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that.” Geralt explained. “She doesn’t like anything… different, unhuman. I think we only have a couple of days before she gathers half of the town to come up here with pitchforks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded, understanding. He hoped Yennefer would heal enough so they could leave as soon as possible. There would be no way she could muster a portal anytime soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what you heard this morning...?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was Yennefer.” Jaskier confirmed it. “She’s done that before. You know, when I was… Yeah, she can get into my mind and call me or something. But I guess she was too weak to make her voice clear. Or maybe I didn’t hear well because I was sleeping. I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really wish I could take a bath right now.” Jaskier mused out loud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a river to the east. It’s not far.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not in a river!” the poet sounded offended. “But I guess that will have to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He noticed the witcher staring at him intensely and flashes from the night before ran through his mind. The endless kisses, the burn from his stubble, how his hands worked, his skillfully fingers finding the right spot. Jaskier swallowed hard and took a deep breath to slow his heartbeat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promised lady Mercey I’d help clean up the mess in town.” Geralt said after a second too long. “I brought some herbs to make her tea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can do that.” Jaskier understood. “I’ll take my bath later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt lifted a hand towards his elbow but dropped it inches away, before turning on his heels and leaving again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier managed to hang a pot he found inside the cottage on the fire and boil some water to make tea with the supplies Geralt had brought. If Yennefer was hearing him, she didn’t give any sign. The poet hummed his way while preparing something for them to eat later. In the bag, the witcher had brought dried meat, cheese and apple cider. It was a decent feast. His stomach growled at the sight of food, and he remembered he had yet to eat since the soup from the night before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is it that your stomach is louder than your mouth?” Yennefer made herself known.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And whose fault is it that I didn’t have time to eat a single thing since I was awakened by a whispering spirit begging for my help before dawn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was hardly begging.” she argued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it was my name you called, so I read it as I wish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course it was. It’s not like I can get through that thick head of Geralt’s.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you implying I have a weak head?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m in no position to judge your head at all.” her lips were pale but grinning like a mischievous cat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier looked offended but turned his attention to the grapes in front of him. He heard Yennefer moving, perhaps adjusting herself against the headboard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you grab the bottle for me again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier quickly walked to where the bottle was and gave it to her, watching the same reaction from earlier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why suffer like that? Why can’t you drink it all at once?” she was the one drinking it, but Jaskier was the one squirming with her reaction to the potion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because it’ll make me sleep in order to work faster, and I don’t want that.” she explained and returned him the bottle. “If I sleep, I can’t control the poison.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, at least you stopped gushing blood.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier went to the table and grabbed the tea and enough bread for them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know if I can eat right now.” she said with a hand on her wounded stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least drink the tea.” he offered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grabbed the cup and took a small sip. Her loose, long hair fell forwards, almost touching the plate with food. Jaskier took another bite of the bread and kneeled on the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you move forward a little?” she was confused but nodded and moved a little, making space for him behind her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carefully, Jaskier took her hair in his hands, separating locks to start braiding them. His fingers were light against her dark strands; she hummed in pleasure when he brushed the fingertips on her scalp. He suppressed a proud grin by catching his lip between his teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How was it?” she wondered suddenly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How was it what?” he asked, distracted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I didn’t have other senses, I’d think it’s Geralt braiding my hair, not you.” Yennefer wouldn’t make this one easy for him. “This bed was untouched; the whole room smells of both of you. And I’m not talking about the fact that you haven’t showered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier had stopped braiding her hair and was frozen in place. All day he had been pushing all thoughts and memories to the back of his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you haven’t talked about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So glad you're back. Are you not wounded anymore?” Jaskier tried changing the conversation. “You’re talking a lot right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to give yourself a heart attack if mentioning sex with Geralt keeps getting you all worked up like that. Your heart sounds like a hammer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, woman.” he undid the braid and started it over again. This way he didn’t have to face her while on this subject. “We didn’t, well, not the…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm.” she hummed against the cup of tea. “He’s not unaffected by you.” she stated simply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Care to elaborate?” Jaskier let his curiosity escape.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That day in Hannu, after we heard you in the alley.” Yennefer blew on her hot tea a little before taking another sip. “Normally, we’d be at it a lot longer. The man was too worked up, though. Also, he’s a little of an exhibitionist. So when you got back and just watched...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Braid all done and undone again. He was thirsty for more details, but he knew he couldn’t face her yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He says it’s me, but he’s always more excited when we are outside, honestly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, gods…” Jaskier mumbled, unable to control himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yennefer resumed sipping her tea while Jaskier tried to calm himself down by doing the most intricate braid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon they heard Roach coming up at full speed. When the witcher stepped inside the cottage, he was met with the most unthinkable scene. He didn’t quite recognize the feeling warming him up inside nor the leap from his heart; it was a strange mixture of giddiness and discomfort. Pushing it all that aside in his mind, he took a few items to the bed where they were and sat in front of Yennefer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was quick.” Jaskier observed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Less than I would like.” Geralt said not taking his eyes off Yennefer. “I brought aether and caelum.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Swallow?” she wondered if it was the potion he usually carries. He nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll help you restore your energy so you can heal faster.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t mix those too.” she shook her head. “I need to get rid of the poison first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long is that going to take?” a grave expression. She shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not long now, I think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt got up and grabbed another piece of cloth before he sat back on the bed and cleaned off the blood from the corner of her mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened, Yen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The witcher reached for her hand resting on her thigh. Jaskier let go of her hair and accommodated himself behind her, paying attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The short version is: there are rich families from all over the continent that think Aretuza is a place to send your daughters to, like a private school. They see magic as power. And more power means more power to their family and their reign. Which eventually means they’re powerful enough to take over other places.” she took a deep breath, still not physically strong enough. She felt Jaskier rubbing circles on her back. “I’m not part of the council, per say, but Triss and Sabrina have been insisting that I go back and help. Tissaia is too proud to call me personally, but she’s losing the place. She’s stubborn, stupid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t explain why you’re hurt like this.” Geralt pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are sorcerers who work for some kings and queens, and they all want something that could benefit them somehow - some witches are petty and greedy as fuck. Getting the princesses in is one way of conquering what they want.” she exhaled, exhausted. “We had been talking for days, trying to decide if Aretuza should take any more students like that. Things got ugly at some point during a ball they decided to hold with their kings and queens. That mouse looking witch enchanted a dagger, went after me and Sabrina.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what?” Jaskier pressed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She had been trying to make us side with her. I told her to fuck off one too many times.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not with words, I imagine.” he mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Obviously.” she confirmed it simply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is she…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dead?” she replied coldly. “I don’t know. She wasn’t alone. After she attacked me, Sabrina went after her. I had to portal out of there quickly. One of the towers was demolished. Most of the other mages had left, trying to save their kings.” a contorted face. “Triss tried helping me, but most of the potions were shattered. They’ll restore it soon enough, but the damage was done and I don’t know if it’ll start another war.” Yennefer looked down and hers and the witcher’s hands together. “It’ll be awhile before another meeting like that. So things should be calm now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H-how long have you been looking for us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A couple of days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been poisoned for </span>
  <em>
    <span>days</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Jaskier inquired dramatically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, don’t scream in my ear.” she warned, then a chuckle. “I almost gave Fahler a heart attack. He told me where you were headed, but I couldn’t keep opening portal after portal; I had to give myself a break before I could try again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yen.” Geralt agreed with the poet for once. He shook his head and lifted a hand to her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It would have taken many more days for the poison to kill me. This is slow torture.” she scoffed. “Coral loves her poisons.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does it still hurt?” Geralt asked, reaching the bandage with his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve had worse.” she shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt grunted and leaned forward to touch his forehead with hers. Jaskier watched this sweet scene and his heart swelled in his chest. He didn’t feel like he fit there, but it just felt so right to stay. It would be so easy to just embrace her body against his, soothe her with a song. The poet shook those thoughts and tried his best to leave without disturbing them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to find that river now.” he mumbled and left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun was hot, but the water was chilly. It took Jaskier a while to muster the courage to dip his head under. He used his minty soap to scrub his body and hair. At the peaceful looking scenery, he thought again of Yennefer’s words about Geralt, which led him to remember again the night before. What would be of them now? It was clear the witcher loved her. But what did Jaskier himself wanted? He didn’t know either. Jaskier and Yen had grown closer, well, more tolerable about each other. She wasn’t wrong about his attraction to her - she was a beautiful woman, who carried so much history and mystery; Jaskier was addicted to hear and learn about her and what she had lived so far.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hand traveled down and he relieved himself thinking about them; legs shaking, heart pounding in his chest, head spinning with images he created and images he had already witnessed. Jaskier got out of the water and grabbed the linen towel to dry himself as best as he could. He was lacing his pants when Geralt showed up handing him his shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s sleeping.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt explained without being asked. Jaskier nodded and put on his shirt, suddenly self conscious to be seen like that under the daylight. The witcher got closer and grabbed his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It healed.” Jaskier showed the finger. There was just a fading line now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” but didn’t let go of his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have another contract soon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, not yet.” then, he let go. “I won’t get another one for the next few days. Until we find somewhere less chaotic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was worried about Yennefer, of course. The witcher wouldn’t leave her side until she was better. Jaskier agreed again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oxenfurt isn’t far from here.” the poet offered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm.” Geralt was thoughtful. “I was thinking of Skellige.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, the islands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a blacksmith I know there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Jaskier’s turn to hum while drying his hair with the towel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you coming?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt’s question wasn’t unusual. At times, Jaskier stayed or traveled to some other place. It was usually around the hot season he found a bardic festivals to play at. But it didn’t stop the pang from hurting his stomach and heaviness to weigh his heart. He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked at Geralt, examining his expression as he answered - if there was any hesitation, he would know where to stand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you don’t want me to go…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what--” the witcher closed his eyes and shook his head, like he was struggling with himself. “Hmm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier tasted something bitter on his tongue. Deep inside, he knew all he wanted was to hear the witcher say the words, but his mind was telling him it was unlikely he would get his wish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You let me know when you figure it out.” Jaskier mocked. “I think I’m going to take a walk. Would you mind taking these back to the cottage?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt took the bathing items Jaskier handed him with furrowed brows. The poet passed by him looking straight ahead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jaskier.” he called; the poet looked back. “Don’t… Last time, you were--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine. I’ll be back before dark. Just want some fresh air.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt nodded hesitantly and watched him go. A strange tightness lingered in his ches until Jaskier was just a bright silhouette walking down the hill. He puffed and headed back to the cottage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside, Yennefer was sleeping soundly. She stirred a little as he closed the door behind him, but didn’t open her eyes - probably acknowledging it was him with her heightened senses. Her dress was still half open, a little torn; dirt and blood stains all over it, but she was heavenly. Looking at her helped dissolving the knot in his chest, although not entirely. He knew he couldn’t protect her from everything - she was unstoppable, timeless. It was like holding water with your hands. Geralt was entranced ever since they met. She took half of his heart every time she left. Still, he got the reassurance he didn’t know he needed right by his side. His heart was nursed, looked after, nourished; until it didn’t feel like it was missing a piece anymore. Until she was back again, overflowing him with feelings he didn’t know he could carry inside him; overclouding his senses and judgment. Maybe without as many words or songs, but just as intense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt took off his boots and sat on the other bed, staring at her. The bed which still smelled of memories from the night before. Memories of bodies moving, shuddering and gasping. He held back a groan and covered his face with his hands, frustrated as his mind spun with mixed images of these two people around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His groan must have been louder than he thought, because he saw Yennefer stirr herself awake, a hand on her wound and sleepy face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry.” he exhaled, tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Jaskier?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He will be back soon.” he walked over to her. “You should rest some more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He traced her cheek with a finger, watching her eyes closing again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When will you take the Swallow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Later. Tomorrow.” she dismissed him. “I can feel it coursing through my veins. It’s like a light burn now; doesn’t hurt as much, but it’s not a good feeling either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did you need stitches?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because my skin won’t heal while there’s poison, and I can’t take the Swallow until the poison is gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shouldn’t you at least eat something?” he suggested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t. This fucking potion leaves the worst taste in my mouth; everything will taste bitter. I’ll end up throwing up and busting the stitches.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt didn’t know what to do, he felt powerless and restless about everything. He couldn’t heal Yennefer faster and didn’t want to leave her side either. Yennefer felt his uneasiness and looked up again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re going to stay here huffing and puffing, we might as well talk about something.” she pointed out. Geralt stared at her, confused. “Are we all going to share one big bed now or would you rather we switch from time to time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt looked like he was frozen in place; like a huge hunk of marble portraying the perfect image of an internal debate: flee or fight. She saw his throat moving. He would be blushing, if he could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, since I’ve given you what to ponder for a while, would you be so kind as to pass me the bottle?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The witcher snapped out of it and in an automatic move handed her the potion and watched her drink all that was left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is going to make me sleep for a little while, but I’ll probably be better when I wake up to drink the Swallow.” she laid back down and closed her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier wandered through the city watching merchants talk loudly, eavesdropping their perspectives on the latest events. Eventually, he would sit with a group of people and ask more - when they didn’t recognize him as the witcher’s companion. It wasn’t unusual and everything had happened so quickly - most people only heard rumors about the icy devil and it had been too early for them to have witnessed the happenings of that morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The poet was a great conversationalist, he indulged them to keep going and to give more colorful details; he was invited in by bar owners to have a good lunch, by maids to share a bed and by a complete stranger to his wedding. He accepted the lunch, which turned into a gamble game; kindly turned down the maids, who still had faith he would come back some day; and promptly confirmed his presence at the wedding, even though he had no idea where or when it would take place, as the stranger had been drunk as a skunk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier felt lighter and ready to go back. He admired the sunset on the horizon while walking up the hill to the cottage, full of ideas to write down. The poet petted Roach, who was resting by the small house. He had no idea what the future had in store for him - but he no longer felt like feeding the brooding cloud hovering him; that was the witcher’s role. Plus, Yennefer could have been mistaken. Her relationship with Geralt was fairly different from the affairs he had been involved in before. He needed to be vocal and needed to hear back. Easy nights filled with wine and beer could only lead them so far.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he closed the door behind him, he saw Geralt and Yennefer sleeping on the same bed. The bed they had shared the night before was waiting for him. It had been a long day, he felt drained. Jaskier laid on the bed and let his dreams in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier was pretty sure it wasn’t morning yet, again. Maybe the crack of dawn, as there was a violet light infiltering the room. But no, it definitely wasn’t morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you’re awake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her voice wasn’t even trying to be respectful to his sleepy ears as she mocked him with her face almost glued to his. Jaskier rose his hand and put the palm on her face, in an attempt of shutting her up. She quickly twisted his wrist and he inhaled a sharp breath before moaning awake in pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Touch my face again.” Yennefer dared, but there was no malice in her words - just a forceful warning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For Melitele’s sake, am I not allowed to sleep past dawn anymore?” he complained, freeing himself from her grasp. “It’s the second time in a row.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier yawned and stretched his body until his eyes adjusted and he could see her figure sitting on the bed next to him. The room was still a little dark, the fire had gone out, and the witcher was nowhere to be seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He went to feed Roach or something.” she shrugged imagining what he was about to ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you feeling better?” he asked propped on an elbow, seeing she was still dressed in bloody clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The poison is gone.” she confirmed it. “I took the Swallow Geralt made. I should be ready to go soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go?” Jaskier was confused. “Go where?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Skellige with you and Geralt.” she replied as if it was obvious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt a pang in his stomach, remembering the talk they’d had the day before. Before he could give it another thought, Yennefer touched his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was hoping you could take me to the river to clean myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were hoping I would clean you?” it was too tempting not to mock, his eyes were shining with mischief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pulled the pillow from under him and hit his face with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not how you ask someone a favor, Yen!” he screamed against the pillow before putting it aside. “Fine. I’ll take you there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier got up from the bed and started looking for his things, still a little sleepy and started rambling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I swear to the gods…” he grumbled. “Who wants to bath at the crack of dawn? Is it…” he stopped and looked at her again. “Hey, why can’t you do the thingy, you know?” the poet was good with words most of the time, just not that early. He was gesturing with hands and fingers and making faces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t be able to do much magic for a little while. I’m almost healed, but I’m still weak.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yennefer got up and waited for him by the door, watching as he fumbled with doblets and laces. When he finished getting ready, he grabbed an apple and headed outside with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walked in silence watching different shades of blue paint the early morning sky, much like that time when they walked back to the tent after he was kidnapped. This time, he was the one reaching for her hand and intertwining their fingers. Jaskier rubbed circles with his thumb against her skin and got a sigh in response. It was almost too sweet for her, something scarce in her life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was different to be loved without too many words or gestures of affection. She had learned long ago how to internalize her overflowing feelings, to be practical and focus on anything else other than what troubled her sleep. Yet, no matter how much they bickered, teased and mocked, Jaskier still displayed his affections - perhaps without even noticing. Maybe not even the poet knew how much he showed even in the little things. It was baffling to witness his surrender to others. She guessed it was just human to carry that much ingenuity until something hardened them, showing what life was really about. But Jaskier had lived through enough and hasn’t changed how he saw the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The river was calm and its clear water looked inviting. Jaskier accommodated himself on a tree log near the bank while Yennefer stripped and walked in. It was almost like looking at a live painting, hypnotizing. She didn’t even hesitate to dip her head under the water, her dark her cascading down her shoulders as she reemerged. Everything about her looked perfectly sculpted, it was mesmerizing. From the violet eyes, to her shiny hair, her lips, her curves, her lovely breasts. Jaskier couldn’t avert his eyes even if he wanted to; the familiar warmth in his lower belly awakening his body. The water covered just above her hip bone, so the wounded flesh was still visible, but it didn’t look as swollen as the previous day. The stitches were still sticking out, though. As if she had listened to his observation, she looked down and felt the lumpy skin with her finger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, she got out of the water and took her time drying herself. The sun was coming up, reflecting on her wet skin. Jaskier felt his head spinning, his hands tingling to write down all his thoughts. She put on her dress, walked towards his tortured face and, without a word, handed him a wooden comb she had brought along, turned around and sat down on the ground in front of him. Jaskier swallowed hard and grabbed a lock of her hair before going in with the comb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you going to do, Jaskier?” she wondered without giving him much explanation, though he knew exactly what she meant. He had combed half of her hair now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever the hell I have been doing all along.” he replied honestly. “I mean. Maybe it was a one time thing. You had stayed longer with us, but then went away. He got used to attending to his needs more regularly, I think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Explain to me why you’re making up excuses? He and I are too fucking old to do stuff we don’t want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not so sure about that.” he pondered remembering all the times he or Yennefer convinced him to tag along somewhere that was not his scene.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She exhaled loudly through her nose, tired, and turned around to face him. His eyes looked surprised, but expecting. Yennefer leaned forward, grabbing his face and pulling him down until their lips met. Jaskier’s heart leaped in his chest, but his lips acted responded very quickly, like lyrics from an old song. Much different from kissing Geralt, she took her time adjusting their lips, inviting him in, so soft and warm. He felt her fingers tangling his hair and tried to bring her body closer with his forearm, but the position was an ungrateful one. He couldn’t help but hum against her mouth as the kiss got more intense. They parted shortly after that, the poet panting and hard like he was a young man again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope you come with us.” Yennefer got up and started walking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, uh, I might need a minute.” he said bashfully, not getting up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yennefer chuckled but continued walking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Back at the cottage, Geralt was inside and had a very concerning look on his face. Yennefer walked through the door, but left it open for Jaskier. The witcher expected an explanation without asking for one. Yennefer put her things aside and grabbed some of the food still displayed on the table. Jaskier saw Geralt’s nostrils flare, so he knew the witcher could smell his reluctance about facing him again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need someone to extract the stitches.” Yennefer announced observing the two men stare at each other without uttering a word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I brought you clothes.” Geralt announced without tearing his eyes away from Jaskier. His blank face was more terrifying than his angry one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no.” Jaskier widened his eyes and looked over at Yennefer, who stared back, sharing the same concern. All reluctance gone. “I have got to see it with my own eyes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both focused their attention on Geralt’s attempt at shopping for Yennefer. The witcher looked at them confused and felt suddenly uneasy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I gathered you’re not ready to make one now.” he started explaining as they pulled a dress from the bag. “And your dress is bloodied and torn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was in a grayish tone but also a little green, long sleeved; very simple but very much not her size. Yennefer and Jaskier were holding up the dress and analyzing the lack of details it had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I can fix it.” Jaskier announced nodding, his mind working ideas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fix what?” Geralt demanded angrily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Otherwise, I’ll be displaying my tits out from here to Skellige.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yennefer started stripping and sat back down on the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you do it?” she pointed to the stitches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Already?” Geralt wondered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unless I want to heal with stitches permanently poking out of me, yes, I’d like it now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed heavily and went to work. It didn’t take long, but it made a drop of blood run down her belly. The witcher damped a piece of cloth with water and helped clean, seeing the skin heal and close before his eyes. When he looked up, Yennefer was staring down at him, then she turned her eyes to Jaskier, then back to him. Jaskier opened his mouth but closed a couple of times. The poet swore under his breath while selecting the material he needed to salvage the dress. He didn’t know how long he could endure this, but to think of leaving them sounded worse than the alternative.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, are we leaving soon?” he finally spoke up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whenever you’re ready.” Geralt looked at him, eyebrows up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, then let’s get to fixing this.” Yennefer was naked holding up the horrendous, new dress. “Really, Geralt.” she shook her head, hiding her amusement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she thought, the dress was enormous; the sleeves were past her shoulders, the neckline barely covered her nipples and it went way past her feet. Jaskier got a dagger he carried and ripped three strips from the hem. He knotted the pieces together and braided them until it looked like a belt. It was amazing how resourceful he was with the little material he had. Jaskier used the line and needle to dart the dress in a few, precise places. The belt went around her waist, tied in a knot on the side of her body. It was far from his best work, but it would have to do until they found somewhere to buy other clothes or until she was ready to magically come up with a ravishing, new look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know about you, but I think it’s pretty decent.” Jaskier observed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yennefer looked down and moved a little in it. Then she stepped closer to the bard and again grabbed his face between her hands to kiss him lightly. Jaskier stayed as she left him; eyes wide open, heart flying. Geralt looked like a statue standing in the middle of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m ready.” Yennefer announced as if nothing happened. “Let’s go.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, I have decided to finish with 6 chapters. It's been adventurous to write this - truly. I will have Yen's perspective written about her time at Aretuza as a OS.<br/>Thank you so much for reading. :) I'd love to hear your thoughts; it really helps the validation seeking bee to write more.</p><p>Next chapter will be the last one - lots of, well, them together, finally.</p><p>Jeanny, thank you again for giving me the time of day. &lt;3</p><p>Twitter: @purplescool<br/>Tumblr: purpleplaidshirt<br/>Instagram: @lilacscool</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hopefully there weren't many embarrassing mistakes.<br/>Would love to read comments (but please be nice to my fragile heart) if you feel like it. &lt;3</p><p>Twitter: @purplescool<br/>Tumblr: purpleplaidshirt</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>